My sister is calling and we got taller like two trees with roots down into that middle squishy hole of Earth holds and guides us, together in the ways those sisters go with forests on their soul and hands hold as sweet as honeysuckle, I say to you— gifts be held and thank you’s are fierce in this way we are old nice and pretty we grow, nice and pretty we grow.
My sister and I have always called ourselves the “Blooming Hunnies.” With "Hunni" in our last name, we’d often remind each other to “bloom” as a way of encouraging one another to grow—especially through tough times.
That’s how my pen name, Hunni Bloom, came to be.
For those who don’t know, my sister is my best friend. We’re incredibly close, and one of my biggest motivations for moving back to Appalachia last spring was to be near her again. It’s been the greatest blessing of this year.
Recently, we’ve been on our own unique but parallel paths, both following our dreams—me with poetry, her with content creation. We keep reminding each other, “bloom, bloom, bloom.”
I wrote this poem shortly after moving back, and it feels more relevant today than ever.
We’re blooming. I’m blooming.
Are you blooming?
With love,
Hunni
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