by Francine Witte

And we just had to show up,
young and unwritten on.

Back then, candles would light
themselves, glittering even

as wax and time dripped
silent away. Flowers

around us everywhere,
but we didn’t see them

wilting. And every night
we’d pass a gather of tulip

heads, their open mouths
singing to an applause of stars,

the sound of all of that going
quiet and quiet as hours passed

into midnight, into morning,
the future waiting there, waving.

Francine Witte is the author of eleven books of poetry and flash fiction. Her flash fiction collection RADIO WATER was published by Roadside Press in January 2024. Her poetry collection is forthcoming from Cervena Barva Press. She is flash fiction editor of Flash Boulevard and South Florida Poetry Journal. Visit her website at francinewitte.com.