ALT A small patch of green underneath my feet. Here is my beginning. I can barely feel my roots deep in the frozen ground, or name all the colors falling from the tree of life. A thousand hues in the wind. A thousand ways to die. We didn't count the trampled flowers when we were young. Come now to my garden, love. I will be your quiet rain. — Ellen Krupich

ALT You think I've forgotten you, but you beat in my chest. Sometimes it's light butterfly wings. Other times, like today, it's thunderclaps — heavy and dull, charged with unwept tears. I don't know if it's a gift or a grift, but every time I spill you on paper, the pages get soaked with pain. — Ellen Krupich

ALT You came carrying spring in your hands, a revelation of rainbows blooming after pelting rains, of a gentle sun that washes away cold and dread. In your eyes an ageless sky shone, triumphant like the army of archangels on the final day. And why should I seek to explain love — I saw it there, curled up in your gnarled fingers holding a chipped cup of tea that smelled like sunrise after a long winter night. — Ellen Krupich