This poem is taken from Stand 232, 19(4) January - March 2022.

Sonia Farmer Two Poems

But enough about you—of course this is not my first
Eden, my first time plucking petals—he loves me,
he loves me not—piecing some riddle of the heart together,
forgetting the flower dies either way. I’ve razed
whole seasons of Spring in Brooklyn, entire
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