Poem of the Week

flower

aracelis girmay

in what you are

is there such a thing

as dreaming

or fear

the sudden shock

of birds

a message

are you one

or am i

and the storms

their drums opening

your smile

your silver tooth

of dew

is there laughing

like the one

when the girl

lifts her face

i am always rushing

and you

somewhat still

beside the wall of stones

like a station of trains

or a large post office

where outside

people wait

in lines

for typists to type

résumés and

applications

and letters of who

was born

and who will

not go but

will stay

all through

the war

it seems

you know

so much there

with your field

getting older

with the rain

running through you

your life in one place

your little chair

of dirt upon

which you stand

orphic secret

with fog

it is through you

that the buried grow

a second communication

please show us to that well then

here are three more children

flower whose back

we lay the broken voice across

in rest when we are nothing left

and you carry us still

my flower

The Yale Review · “flower” by aracelis girmay

describe one formal realization or change you made during the writing of this poem.

I felt increasingly marked by the flower’s ephemerality and by the ways that turning toward it in the poem touched open channels between other life forces and memories. Formally, I was interested in the capillary action of the flower pulling water up through its roots, along with the descent of the rain and of this poem read from top to bottom. Other things: I at first dropped the “my” of “my flower,” not wanting to possess it, but then returned to it for dearness. I hoped that quick turns in the language would keep the flower out of grip. Connected to this and what I hope is an element of multidirectionality created by the unpunctuated lines and units of thought running into others with some fluidity, I grew interested in the proximity of “you” and “us” and “my,” trying as I was toward soft instabilities—of waters, syntactical orientations, and presences.

aracelis girmay is a poet, editor, and teacher. Her new book of poems, GREEN OF ALL HEADS, is out this fall.