direct, sincere, unassuming, true
—Then I climbed back down, and he went on.
Later, I saw him: the five petals of a common flower.
Later still, a kind of magnolia I hadn’t known.
What could be better?, I guess.
Looking for him didn’t work; I had to wait.
There was so much in-between.
Some kindnesses hit hard. The clerk who called me honey.
I didn’t know how I’d go on and did go on.
The weather provided continuing interest.
Rain happened mostly overnight.
In the morning the grass was wet; I must have slept.
Mary Ann Samyn’s most recent book is Air, Light, Dust, Shadow, Distance, winner of the 2017 42 Miles Press Poetry Prize. She teaches in the MFA program at West Virginia University.