a thin cord of mugwort


our father, the self-

taught botanist, is

stretching a thin

cord from the piano

to the back door

tying tiny bouquets

of the traveler’s

mugwort every six

inches down the line

to dry. each bouquet

of ten delicate

sprigs carries more

than just traveler’s

luck, but his signature

love – the patient fruit




This entry was published on May 8, 2008 at 12:30 pm. It’s filed under thoughts and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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