The first time I learned
to rub fold against fold
the dark dried plush
would not come off
easy— Take your little rags
and run them under cold water,
I was told. Relief of lichen
on stones, sharp strop
against which petals loosened
in the iron basin. On the stoop,
green brooches of moss I broke off
for their clean, caustic smell.
In response to Water, water.