pink zinnias smash easy between fingertips, 

until that milky paste exudes 

perfect for the concoction. 

I drop the mutilated petals 

in the bird bath 

amidst the tainted feathers

and their gray clouds. 

my blue nails scoop,

leaving matted feathers 

behind

grandma’s hair dye in the bathroom sink 

black clotted cream. 

Natalie plops closed baby pinecones 

one by one 

in the dish 

molly stirs 

with her oak branch. 

we submerge 

rolly pollies 

dead bees

squashed ants 

head first 

believing in the healing holy perfume 

the mix of sweat, petals, and grime 

recess time 

every day 

11:20 am 

bug town awaits 

till the spiritual realm 

plumaged 

shifts from bugs and spells

to muddy ruins

when the bell rings recess 

and the flower garden is gone 

replaced by boys size 5 footprints 

which mar the sacred ground 

whispers turn into a hiss 

“the boys did it”

spilled the bird bath’s concoction

stomped on supple soil 

my fist rises 

soul screams

yet, my supporters dissipate 

petals floating in the bird bath 

sophie meets my anger with annoyance 

“Mommy always says boys are simply silly.”