I placed rosemary in with the linens.
Simplicity of winter pear-bone,
of cold silk, of slow dictation.
Germany will still be there.
I slept in cedar
under lambskin blankets,
a doe cellared in astral ice.
Simonopetra will still be there.
The moment I knew that you weren’t coming,
I became stronger than you,
and much more tired.