There’s always a truth imprint left over. Truth can’t be erased, if you’ve noticed; it finds ways to show up and tell its story. And the stories just keep changing.

If you loved a girl, you wouldn’t think she’d become a tree. The Minstrel didn’t anyway, and how could he have guessed that after his love became a tree, the girl in her would grow into a woman. Her sister wasn’t a woman till she had wings, but she was always flighty, if truth be told.

from “Turning Song” in Luna Station Quarterly, Issue 24, 2015