Lilies with Full Hands
Anne Gerard

Purple statice still blooming in my jaw
I long thought the florets dead
But every morning tingling every
Bouquet hung from its stems by the ceiling
To keep the color
My wife used to smell differently when she was sad
Once I had a wife
Damp perfume of autumn leaves found months later
Never cared much to tell it this way
Yellow fog hovering thick
Over other intricacies
It’s easier to call them flowers
Blue pieces coalescing into little boats

Anne Gerard lives in Las Vegas, where she is pursuing an MFA. Born in Detroit, and raised in the midwest, she misses the Great Lakes every day.