By Hannah Zemanski

Cold and clear, the rain
is coming down
harder now.
If I were outside I would feel
those drops pelting the skin
of my hands and my face.

But I do not let the rain wash over me,
hold off washing my hair one more day,
watch the flowering branches
drink it instead- life to their stems.
Their weary petals now glisten
as if born to new life.

When I consider my time
I do not think of this,
only how many times
I’ve had to remove
the baby from the dog’s food bowl;
redirect his hands
from splashing her water
onto the floor.

Whose work is more important?
The new blossoms
on this tree have
work to do too
and time is on their side.
Reaching and stretching,
their hearts are open
to the weather
that comes their way.