– Shin Yu Pai

one month ago, the potted cactus
grew top heavy, tilting towards
the sun, shooting up in growth

overnight, like my 4-year-old,
its glossy green flesh turning
a dusk-like pink as the lower-most

cuticles shriveled to make way
for new rosettes, blooms establishing
themselves while waiting for

the old weight to crumble;
my healer tells me we are
entering a new season,

the time of wood, pruning back
the parts of what’s fallen
into disuse so that I can

take root and flower again