trees finally go gold veins shot with sunlight everyone is relieved muffled behind scarves
earlier today, news a friend might die of bowel cancer you debate writing back
fuck cancer in its ass but maybe too much too soon though of all friends, he would be the one
to laugh at this dark dark joke so black you are so clumsy using humor as shield
the way you always do haven't you been looking the trees are dying your friend is dying
we are born dying that's the whole point says the gingko golden in its gutter
Christina Olson is the author of Terminal Human Velocity. Her poetry and nonfiction has appeared in The Atlantic, Arts & Letters, Virginia Quarterly Review, The Southern Review, Brevity, River Styx, Gulf Coast, Passages North, The Normal School, Hayden’s Ferry Review, and The Best Creative Nonfiction, Volume 3. She is the poetry editor of Midwestern Gothic. She teaches creative writing at Georgia Southern University, is poetry editor of Midwestern Gothic, and lives online at www.thedrevlow-olsonshow.com.