The Fragrance of Infinite Green Floats Through the Air

A jazz of bee buzz collects deep in milkweed 
before monarchs, like moments flying in and out 

of themselves, touch down dewy-winged.  Years ago I found one  
perfectly dead and made a butter dish her coffin 

dug her grave with a spoon. Somewhere she dreams herself alive 
flies the distance between marigolds and the witness 

of blue hills. Once on that sugar maple’s lowest branch 
a yellow scarf swayed filled with the scent of lemon or of someone searching.  

Lost things float free until claimed by wind or the urge to possess. 
After three years, I let the scarf go, returned to the wild of imaginings.  

It was a Wednesday, and I was emptied of want. 
Sometimes I dream it has curled itself into the straw of nests.  

A mourning dove sitting patiently. 
The eggs about to hatch under starlight. 

BABO KAMEL

Babo Kamel’s work has appeared in the Greensboro Review, Lily, CV2, Poet Lore, and Best Canadian Poetry 2020, among other places. She holds an MFA from Warren Wilson College’s Program for Writers. Her chapbook After was published by Finishing Line Press and her book What the Days Wanted by Broadstone Books.