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sitting in November sun

10 November 2022

sitting in November sun,
there’s no hatred in my heart,
or anger, i’ve carried for
year upon year
there’s no moment where i put it down,
yet it’s gone.
my father’s forgiven,
all fathers, even, and
old lovers who bit into me like a ripe peach
(bloody, hungry, with teeth)
stay in the past,
no aching scars,
just my friend the scrub jay calling out how i feel
(careless, playful, laughing)
and my grandmother the sun
caressing my face