Karen Loeb

No cousins, aunts or uncles

anywhere around

Sings the blues in winter

weeping leaves scatter on the rug

Potted plant in prison—

roots knowing no ground

My baby now

Then one day in November

or was it December

a lacy blossom appears

amid last year’s leaves

Dots of flowers burst open

tiny petals

another blossom on a new branch

then beads of water

my schefflera imagining Brazil

or Florida breezes

not a windy river town

laden with snow

My baby now

We’ve been together

fifteen years

first bloomed after twelve

Again this season

no apparent reason

Karen Loeb is writer-in-residence of Eau Claire, Wisconsin and an emeritus professor at the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire.