For Trent (And Bill, and the people who read the refrigerator note but don't understand it…)

Maybe because
it is spring
I am naked
and whitegreen,
newly formed
and forming.
Maybe because
I want the wind
on my face
and at my back.
Maybe because
I am burned
by the sun
but need it
to blind me.
Or maybe
the taste of ashes
means I am
a phoenix, rising,
and now
it is time
to fly
again.