A dandelion’s fruiting head
a jeweled amphora.
Spinach tissue’s blue
mosaic, too beautiful to eat.
Stomata dot the skin of trillium
like points on a map, what’s laid bare
by a microscope: a pine needle’s thirst
seen at the infection site where
brown fungus burrows
through a season’s drought.
For now, the lobed algae live on,
traveling in pairs,
and pollen grains gather on anthers.
Tucked inside the feathers
of whistling ducks,
diatoms gorge on sunlight.
Click here to read Jennifer Markell on the origin of the poem.
Image: “Tree Fungus” by Liz West, licensed under CC 2.0
Jennifer Markell’s first poetry collection, Samsara (Turning Point, 2014), was named a “Must-Read Book” by the Massachusetts Book Awards in 2015. Markell received the Barbara Bradley and Firman Houghton awards from the New England Poetry Club. Her work is included in numerous journals, including Consequence, RHINO, Tinderbox, The Women's Review of Books, and the Compassion Anthology. She works as a therapist with special interest in therapeutic uses of writing.
Latest posts by Jennifer Markell (see all)
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