By Isaac Myers III

Issac runs Curlew Quarterly,

a journal pairs distinguished prose, poetry,

and fiction with intimate photographs and interviews.

December 2019

BAOZHONG

One May morning

the heat presses

against your skin

for the first time

in months. It's raining

and through the window

you climb out the fire escape

at two in the afternoon,

wanting the view,

wanting to feel the city

beside you around you

beneath you.

Here are

the flowers

arriving in

my mind,

they're in

bloom it's June

and everything is

yellow and pink

and green save

the sky call it

blue. Here is

a tea needed

for spring

cleaning, taking

the curtains

down and shaking

out the dust.Taking

the books down

and reading and

polishing the shelves

that hold them.

Here is a tea

for washing

the windows

the glass

the wood

the floors

the all.

I have been collecting

memories for spring,

places in Central Park

to walk with you

on a Saturday in April,

trees to stand beneath

as everything goes

floral, when even the raindrops

like flowers do not fall

but float

and descend

from the clouds above.