Yes

No one sees
how long the green has held.

How it learned
to keep its softness guarded—
small spines at the edges,
just enough to say
not yet.

There is a kind of patience
that looks like stillness
from the outside.

Inside, something is gathering.
Color pressing forward.
A quiet yes
that will not be rushed.

And then—
not all at once—

a seam opens.

Red, where no one expected it.
Tender, where everything suggested otherwise.

Not because it was safe.

Because it was time.

—Iris Lennox, 2026