My friend Emily sent me a care package from Minnesota filled with homeopathic remedies and flower essences for my groin injury and other things. She also recommended that I attempt writing love songs to myself or others, so I started with her. Here's to Emily the Healer:
Emily, you prairie womyn
Heartland lover and queen of small animals
Birds hover (over silent rivers)
Butterflies form halos
and silos shimmer
In your sunlight.
The groundhog has returned to her grassy shadow.
The grasshopper has cracked open a beer.
The antelope have swum to St. Paul.
We all love you, O Prairie Womyn.
...and thank you for your mystery.
Amyn.
My poetry is probably too flowery to be any good, so that's why I stick to rhymes. If it helps me to heal, though, I'll do it.
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