Dali, or more so Monet, touched a finger
to my dream, and I found myself
in my childhood bedroom, the same
windows and walls but beneath my feet
moss, wildflowers, long limbed grasses
determinedly pushing through
the floor boards, separating the tight
sealed cracks with the velvet crush
of their leaves. In the corner,
my rocking chair still sat
and I could remember myself there,
fourteen, legs draped listlessly
over the armrest, malcontent with all
that I innately knew myself to be
the beginning of what would become
years of persistent and ceaseless
pruning. I stood, marveling at this
dream meadow, wild with green
and magenta and thought look
girl just look at what blooms
when you stop cutting back.
–
Shauna Shiff is an English teacher, mother, wife, and textiles artist in Virginia. Her poems can be found in Stoneboat Literary Journal, Atticus Review, Cold Mountain Review, Green Ink Poetry, and Cola, and are upcoming in others. In 2022, she was nominated for Best of the Net.