The flames cackle. We laugh along. Two birds in the wood 

waiting on the return of our flock. You make tea. 

It warms me more than any campfire could.

When you changed your name you changed the way I see 

art. I cannot look at the twisting greens of Van Gogh’s countryside 

without seeing you. A tree that towers in my heart taller than anything 

we could find in this forest. I don’t look for you in the wheat fields 

of Saint-Rémy but I still find you there. When I turn my gaze away 

from the frame you are still here. I prefer you where you are

—on a mountainside in Vermont, with some 

chamomile tea; soaking in the sounds.

Julia Gwiazdowski (she/her) is a writer from Philadelphia. After graduating from Temple University in English and Secondary Ed, she briefly taught high school before pursuing a full-time writing career. As a transgender woman, Julia often tackles topics like gender, dysphoria, and depression but she also can't resist writing ekphrastic pieces and love poems. She has been published previously in Wizards In Space Magazine and Three Line Poetry. She can be found at @ATreeNamedJulia on Instagram and Twitter.