Light Grows Leaves Itself: Umarrah

April 27, 2020, Kate Belew With Umarrah

All afternoon I watch my dog hunt flies as the light spills in

His carefree spirit is something I strive for 

I want to laugh again, freely, like leaf fall

and feel the slow burn of the city's heat on a coffee run 

there is something in the air at those times and I know 

that magic isn’t something you seek, its something you make 

and so I open the windows myself to that 

the clouds are stuck like little pieces of cotton wool 

and I imagine the pollen a different sort of glitter 

I wonder how many stories these trees could tell 

should I take my hand off the mouths of them, unknowingly 

if I listen closely, will they share their secrets 

All afternoon I watch how light grows leaves itself 

Their power to adapt is something I admire

And I open the windows myself to 

a world of newness, remaking, reshaping 

I hope I am one of the lucky ones.

I ponder it while my cigarette’s smoke dissolves around me and 

wonder what pain is of my own making.