spring              time
and we’re both                               home again
visiting our
folk’s
neighbors, as well as friends
it’s been awhile, we’ve both been       away growing           up

now, here we are again, a long           week                stay
my mother          kneads the yeasty dough
pillowing it with her fists
“he never got married, you know
he lives in Madison
works at some law firm, I think.”

“oh,” the only             reply I can
muster
up
I look wistfully out the window
at the               sloped, grassy             two hills
full of purple flowers
swaying in the breeze
(you’re only a short walk away
ten minutes, maybe)

I turn to my mother
she watches me carefully
studies me

“you dating anyone?” she asks
I shake my head “no one special.”

the truth is
no        one                        at                        all
I haven’t dated anyone
not dinner or a movie or even coffee
I haven’t flirted in the library, nor stared longingly after a
handsome face

I haven’t allowed any             one to enter my mind
let alone my heart (since you left)

“I think I’ll check on the chickens,” I say, abruptly, nearly
dropping my cup of coffee

but I forget to even pretend
stroll right past them
make my way up the hill

wind blowing my hair
into a tangle
floral scent rising up my nose
I feel               euphoric
the       beginning of     a         new day

With degrees in Special Education and Reading Specialist, Lorisa D. Wiedenheft is now a writer and an author. She has self-published two poetry collections and is working on a middle-grade verse novel. She enjoys music, books, art, and spending time with her family.