Phenomenology of Endurance

- after "The Scented Breeze," Armando Valero

In place of the heart, align a flower
and its seasonal manifestations. Smooth
open its pages thick as clotted cream: 
remnant of summer warmth tucked 
between the bindings. In the absence of
a compass, the birds argue about directions. 
Lines curve through the countryside, 
fading where the horizon is a jagged 
edge in the hills. It's only one 
flower, but its redolence convinces you 
there are others like it in the world.