too old for this

Allison Stein

every day there are more strange & dingy birds in the backyard
and the lilac bush aches skinnier and skinnier under cold sun
while finally after many years of idolising
i plucked a wild strawberry and took a small scarlet bite
but tasted empty nothing.
so i am too vast and clean-skinned for it all,
the little backyard steps and leaning birdhouse
and spongy dying grass,
i begin to know the texture of real sky and hot light
so much that i burn the back door with my hands.
not a hatching, not a fleeing, but an expansion greatly beyond,
keeping a few clover flowers in the fold of my shirt
and dipping my skin in the sweet pacific simultaneously,
with only the softest sigh and a longing
for the way the sunlight used to fall.

---

Allison Stein is a eighteen-year-old poet from Pennsylvania. Her work has recently appeared in SOFTBLOW, The Eunoia Review, Riggwelter Press, and others, and she can be found on Instagram as @cinnamonwords. She adores moths, clouds, and the colour green.

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