Redness

              for Pearse Hutchinson 

Night words turn into morning words.

Here are the words I’ve gathered—
words I sit with late into the night,
words I wake up to—these days
early, so early in the morning—

See how they slide into their own song,
refusing to fit inside your usual aubade—

*

Ackermohn, Blatzblume, Blutblume, Boschtkraut,
Donnerblume, Feldmohn, Feuerblume, Feuermohn,
Flattermohn, Gartenmohn, Grindmagen,
Klappermohn, Klapprose, Klatschmohn, Klatschrose,
Große Klatschrose, Kornrose,
Kornschnalle, Mohn,
Mohnblume, Paterblume,
Roter Mohn, Roter Mohn, Schnalle,
Wilder Mohn, Wolder Mohn, Wilder Mohn,
Klatschmohn, Klatschmohn, Feuerblume—

*

Sometimes I think I prefer to live between languages,
within silences only I can hear—

These days, I cannot stay indoors.
Soon, those fields across the water
will burn with bees—
bees lured by a redness
even Husserl couldn’t have fathomed.
A redness only bees understand.