I don’t cry at endings anymore. Instead,
it’s the beginnings where I pause,
eyes welling, the hardness rising in my chest–
like when a relationship restarts
after a distance,
or when the first redbuds and dogwoods flower
in Spring–I’ve waited so long for some kind
of catharsis. Who knew it would come
from resetting the day? I woke in the dark
to the sound of rain hitting hard–a roil
and rumble from thunder. There’s an edge
in this gloaming, a feeling of coming–
I embrace it. I rise my head for tomorrow,
a new way of being, again.

 It’s always such a joy to be doing this with y’all in June. Thanks to everyone who does this thing we do together, for all your poems and inspiration, for every comment. Already looking forward to 2024!