Loss
Mother lost
the green glass brooch
Father gave me
dropped it
between apple tree and lavender
somewhere on the path
to becoming an emerald
I clipped grass with scissors
turned soft earth
found a knife patterned with fish
and a spoon engraved with leaves
Mother sketched patterns of bark
details of miniature:
an ant on a grass stem,
a speed of red spiders
bees endlessly fussing
while I wept
the emptiness of green