Page 100 - TheBridge_Vol16

VINDICTA

Kayla Roy

When I was little, And tears rained from my eyes
I spent my summer days because I had never meant to hurt Mother
in the back garden Earth.
of the house my father grew up in
with my grandmother, From that day on,
the most beautiful bloom of my life. I never pulled the blossoms,
never stole a petal,
Cornflower blue eyes, because I feared that if I made
softly weathered skin, her mad that she would stop sharing
like the petals of white roses. her blooms with me.
Lavender sprigs tucked into
the sleeves of her sweater— But one day,
the most perfect flower. Mother Earth took her revenge
and the tears rained again—
When I was little, splattering against the earth
I would sit beside her as she withered and died,
and pull the flowers from the ground. and Mother Earth took her most beautiful
wanting to keep each one forever. bloom from me.
She would pull me into her lap and
take my hands, Today, I couldn’t help myself.
chubby, little palms blossom in I pulled peonies and pansies,
withered old ones. I ripped rhododendrons from the ground,
I tore tulips and tiger lilies
She would wipe the dirt from my hands because Mother Earth had broken her
and tell me not to pull the petals, promise, stolen my bloom.
for it was like pulling the hair from If I could not have mine then she would never
Mother Earth, stealing her favorite children again have hers.
away.

88 | The Bridge