Donna Fleischer

                after reading Jared Stanley

wild clover wind in
                from america to 2013
Lüneburg, Deutschland rose
                tree breeze, here,

the rain

drops, shudders leaves
surface tension over
                each corona to
                white-grey clouds
that enter barely there,
a chosen ground      seeps


the little goose flowers gänseblümchen
close, they open,

share eyelids’
                crowded lights
push     out
parsed green shoots


World Cross Over

colognes perfumes blooms
in errant humid soils, condensates
blur boundaries of
glass and sky,
fondness, love,
this side, that,
a muffled quiet, as if
snow were inside

where backs are rubbed, patted, tapped,
repeatedly, for lack of you, center of it all,
unraveling in place where I am brought to view you
from so many rows back

we return, you and me, in those last how long minutes –
you rarely on your back and drowning in your lungs,
as I stay, wipe the white flow from your mouth, wait with you

now in this other room your children, grandchildren, husband fumble marooned

gladiolas uprising
they climb they are close they open
I plant my nose in them, draw you
in, pale Lenten yellows and the China red ones

burrow into your world cross over
one room to another in a new house, still March yet
winter gone somewhere, those fragrances
leap at me, stun open each
four season hour

Donna Fleischer’s poems appear in journals and anthologies worldwide, including or forthcoming in EOAGH, Esque, Exit Strata, Fiera Lingue, Jupiter 88, Lilliput Review, Naugatuck River Review, Otoliths, Poets for Living Waters: An International Response to the 2010 BP Oil Disaster in the Gulf of Mexico (BlazeVOX Books), Solitary Plover, and South by Southeast. Indra’s net, (bottle rockets press 2003), an out of print chapbook, is available free to read at Scribd. Donna curates content daily for poetry, permaculture and the earth at her blog word pond.
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