visiting my child who has become an adult

by Nicole Farmer

there's no hot food or fresh cut flowers awaiting me, just the warmth of your flesh and your sleepy smile and all the coronavirus rules we broke to indulge in this moment like no other with my nose in your hair and that familiar smell of the oils and perfume only your head can make and my heart misses a beat and the world stands still from its constant spinning and I am content to be wherever you are standing in the marijuana haze drifting out the door of your apartment which I know must be yours because of the moldy croissants in a plastic box which you hastily threw out in your frantic cleaning to show me the beauty of the place you have designed and decorated with care to make a home for you and your sweetie and all I can do is look at your long delicate fingers, each like a butterfly wing, as you gesture for me to step inside.

Nicole Farmer dreamed of flying as a child, which led her to run away from home at the age of seven to join the circus as a trapeze artist. They kindly returned her to her home before nightfall. Nicole is a reading tutor and nature lover who has found her home in the Appalachian Mountains of Western North Carolina.