Tova Kranz

Florida, I love you, but I couldn’t stay. 
Long grasses grow in deep water, but
the more acres you clear, the less
there is to burn. The spaceship Discovery
launched on its second Return to Flight
mission on my 12th birthday. I watched 
from my stoop and wished I could go 
with it. Ever since then, I’m always looking 
East. Florida, the heat never bothered me  
I just wish the breeze reached Orlando 

more. When the sunlight lays heavy on my 
hair, I feel like I am back, but the air is too thin,
and where do I go when I’m only now missing 
the grapefruit tree outside my window? 
I don’t need thunderstorms or the local 
paper wrapped in sweating plastic, just 
the muggy hand of Saint Francis holding 
mine—a platonic lovegrip we both need to 
feel like the crazy Florida birds are real. 
This isn’t longing, just the ache of knowing 
that the places that you know best are places 
you barely know at all. 

Tova Kranz earned degrees from Florida State University and the University of Louisiana at Lafayette. Her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net, and has appeared in Blue Heron Review and 86 Logic, among others. She writes about farming and growing on Substack.