it was as if i was slipping
on gravel
it was as if i was tripping
over sand
walking home,
i realized,
i'm counting stems.

it was as if i was phoning
dial tones
it was as if i was speaking
to bricks
writing this poem
i realized,
i'm counting stems.

petals in the wind
and flowers falling thin,
the leaves are bending in-
i'm just counting stems.
petals fading dim
and flowers papering,
the leaves are decaying-
i'm just counting stems.

it's as if i'm shouting
on mute
it's as if i'm running
in place
as i walked on
i realized
spring is over,
and i'm just counting stems.
 
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