Shall I plant cone flowers around the shed?
Shall I buy that bag of tulip bulbs and bury all 100 in my beds?

Sprinkle ladybugs about?
While my babies giggle, run and shout?

Will I see my roses bloom?
Have fresh cut flowers in my room?

Should I plant my pumpkin patch?
Should I bother fixing the broken latch?

Will I see the June moon shine through my french doors
across my bed like liquid silver, spilling passion upon the floor?

Should I paint my bedroom walls?
or hang up a picture?
Should I even plan for fall?

Or do I begin to pack?
To thin out the past lives
still taking up space I really lack?

Steady myself for a new path?
Practice being brave?
Practice being blind,
to the all the things I was once defined?

~nina~