prodigal

She leaves me the season’s gifts

crimson tallow leaves

a thousand-petaled camellia

pert johnny-jump-up faces

I like to imagine her in a green silk slip

hazelnuts for eyes

hair corn husks dried and whispering

barefoot, winged, dazzling, elusive

Houston’s winter, subtle until late December

littering her bounty on my sidewalk like some prodigal daughter

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