Emma Bruce
Hydrangeas If we walked to the edge of this clear lake, Enjoyed the burst of blue flowers underfoot, I could be whole again. Sky bathing my breastbone through my skin, Through the deep navy of your woven shawl. If you are root and aster, I am hydrangeas. Mint to me tastes blue, like beads of water Caught in your hair— The kindest thing I have seen. You in spring are my antidote, Laughing clear across this field. Let’s be pastoral, build a house, Care for goats at the edge Of this lake, You can read me Wendell Berry And I’ll embroider onto flannel 3
