Peut être
My boy wears grease that
smells like cinnamon in his hair.
It lingers on the pillows
and I don’t want to forget that.
There aren’t any squash in the garden but
the blooms sure look pretty
like springtime tender
even in the eleventh month.
When there is rose
lemonade at the market
and when there are curbsides
bathed in sunlight,
maybe.
Savannah Grace Hicks is a student of Creative Writing with an emphasis in poetry at the University of Arizona in Tucson.