Gardens of Tulips

The way I feel about my mother is an old lilac bush
with robins gathering in the blossoms.

The way I feel about my cat is a child’s hands filled,
dripping with ice cream.

The way I feel about work is a dinosaur who forgot
she’s supposed to be dead, roaming downtown
hungry for cheeseburgers and fries. Moths gather
at her back like wishes.

The way I feel about myself is a library,
shelves so deep they fade past the horizon,
past the world, past the circulation desk,
past the sweatered children
with their book reports and jelly sandwiches.

The way I feel about you is fresh-cut flowers
waving from their water tank, colors more alive
than the brightest undiscovered stars.

*

Rebecca Macijeski is the author of Autobiography (Split Rock Press) and Apocryphal Girl (Pinhole Poetry). A Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net Nominee, her poems have appeared in The Missouri Review, Poet Lore, Barrow Street, Nimrod, The Journal, Sycamore Review, The Cincinnati Review, Puerto del Sol, and many others.