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(Poem by Wendy Howe ) I gather herb blossoms that grow wild near the water's edge and drape their joyous scent over a narrow basket. They amuse this room which has felt the rain lament all week and the mist falling cool on the window's shoulder like a girl’s breath expelling grief in her lover’s absence. Now he has come home. You unlock the door, the key a flower's skeleton clenched in a lonely hand. Mine is smoothing petals, nimble and ready to unbutton your shirt, loosen and lovingly pull off the tense weave of separation. To know more about Wendy Howe All Images & Poems (En) 
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