Yarrow

1

If you think
Adam had help, and there
was more

than one
Eve, you’ll grow
on, living

in little
things,
loose,

like the
white flowers
wild yarrow

no taller
than yr knees
scattered

as clouds
at altitude

one
beginning

no beginning
everything

elite
at peace

with the small
significance

of the ordinary
servitude

without…

2

feeling switched at birth.

As a babe
we would take yr milk

from your hand
pumped out of a breast

knowing you or not
& maybe never know

anything was wrong,
immune, we’re growing on

elite and hard to mend
crawling on the floor & joined

in tv sing-along
this, is clearer, each epiphany—

there’s a word
as the bubble burst

‘phiff!’

the sudden soft
coming to yourself.

3

If yr proof
is not canopied
of others
of  ‘an’other

than yourself
then by your knowing
look make it out
available compassionate

and true. fear, & love,
both
have an equal sort
of access

to the signs. the facts
are disputed

everywhere, truth is
neutral. grit

becomes gemstone candle
makers,

are not the flame;
nor the keepers

of the Flint the mechanics
of combustion formula.