Mold On The New Leaf

A girl wakes up with expectations

Assertions

That things will stay the same:

The sun will rise

Her mother will say good morning.

A bird will make its presence known.

The garden will have grown.

She has never welcomed change.

Change has always taken something from her.

Unlike the winter cycles to spring and in rotating takes before giving,

Loss does not turn itself over to fulfillment.

Dance devoured her and had not the courtesy to leave even her beating heart intact.

Her father departed for a stripper and left nothing but legal fees.

Geographical uprooting made no pretext of gentleness.

Blunt force trauma burgled a year's memories.

She tried to shrink her feeligns into something less.

Disease took her dear companion's locomotion. 

Love made off with her rhyme and her reason

While time trod softly away with friends in tow.

It it any wonder, then, that when asked to move again,

The girl closes her eyes and murmurs softly,

"No"?