Girlhood

was when I slept in the woods
bareheaded beneath jagged
stars and the membranous
near-misses of bats, when
I tasted watercress,
wild carrot, and sorrel,
when I was known
by the lilac I hid beside,
and when that lilac, burdened
by my expectations of lilacs,
began a journey
without me, as when
the dirt road sang, O,
rugosa rose, farewell,
and ran behind the clipped
white pine hedge into
the immeasurable
heartbreaks of the field.