flowers ©papa osmubal

flowers ©papa osmubal

steven schroeder

strange, speech

who’d know a word
from the sound
of it? from the sight
of it? from the touch
of it? who’d know
a name from the naming
of it? its bouquet,

perhaps: a rose
by any other

first, name it, then

drink it, all of it
balance on the rim
marvel at the canyon
it has made in time

you will have to
follow her down
line by line
to the depths
of the whole
journey of her life
until where you were,
looking, vanishes
in the distance
to touch her

let go the nothing of the name


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