by Lindsey Royal Wayland

April maple leaves
uncurl their five-pointed tips.
I hold my son’s hand.

Lindsey Royal Wayland is a poet, calligrapher, and researcher with an MFA in poetry from Pacific University. A finalist for the 2024 New Letters Literary Awards, her poetry has been published or is forthcoming in Southern Humanities Review, Bellevue Literary Review, swamp pink, Amsterdam Review, the Haiku Society of America, and others. A native Texan, she lives with her husband and three children on the Salish Sea. Find her online at lindseywayland.com.