IN PRESS
Tyler Fisher
This morning’s unsought petals — hold them firm.
Although they bruise and wither in your grasp,
withhold them from Time’s blight and Nature’s worm.
Protect them from the damp, and tightly clasp
them in the pages of a book to dry
with powdered orris root to fix the scent.
Although unsought, like accidental lines,
discarded words, and unused sketches set
aside in last year’s notebooks, tucked away
in yellowed journals, scrawled in margins, left
to pickle in the paper strata, they
will cure with age and wait to resurrect
in unexpected bursts of poetry —
or make an adventitious potpourri.
Although they bruise and wither in your grasp,
withhold them from Time’s blight and Nature’s worm.
Protect them from the damp, and tightly clasp
them in the pages of a book to dry
with powdered orris root to fix the scent.
Although unsought, like accidental lines,
discarded words, and unused sketches set
aside in last year’s notebooks, tucked away
in yellowed journals, scrawled in margins, left
to pickle in the paper strata, they
will cure with age and wait to resurrect
in unexpected bursts of poetry —
or make an adventitious potpourri.