Milkweed2

From​ ​a​ ​Milk​ ​Weed​ ​Pod

We​ ​wandered​ ​in​ ​fields.

You​ ​showed​ ​me​ ​Milkweed​ ​pods; we​ ​opened​ ​them​ ​together:

the​ ​milk, white​ ​ ​and​ ​essential

the​ ​angel​ ​hair, white​ ​with​ ​sunlight​ ​glinting on​ ​flyaway,​ ​gossamer,​ ​spider​ ​web​ ​threads, ruined when​ ​squeezed​ ​in​ ​a​ ​crumpled,​ ​sweaty​ ​matt.

We​ ​wandered​ ​in​ ​fields​ ​together.

Now,​ ​you​ ​have​ ​new​ ​plants.

Spring​ ​wildflowers​ ​push​ ​through winter’s​ ​matts​ ​of​ ​pine​ ​needles​ ​and​ ​leaves.

Wake​ ​Robin,​ ​Blue-eyed​ ​Mary,​ ​Virginia​ ​waterleaf grow​ ​in​ ​your​ ​yard.

Bloodroot,​ ​Wild​ ​Ginger,​ ​Dutchman’s​ ​Breeches flourish.

I​ ​send​ ​you​ ​a​ ​wildflower​ ​sweatshirt, a​ ​wildflower​ ​tray.

I​ ​visit​ ​in​ ​early​ ​spring; you​ ​tell​ ​me​ ​what​ ​tiny​ ​blossoms are​ ​pushing​ ​past​ ​last​ ​fall’s​ ​debris: Spring​ ​Beauty,​ ​Snow​ ​Trillium,​ ​Trout​ ​Lily.

You​ ​tell​ ​me​ ​where​ ​they​ ​are so​ ​I​ ​can​ ​make​ ​my​ ​own​ ​pilgrimage.

I​ ​don’t​ ​want​ ​to​ ​see​ ​Cardinal​ ​Flower which​ ​you​ ​have​ ​transplanted​ ​and​ ​tended.

I​ ​am​ ​still​ ​learning​ ​how​ ​to​ ​hold​ ​the​ ​angel​ ​hair.