"Herb Goddess" by Sharon George

Yesterday, doing laundry again, she went through the pockets
of the world and so found much that would have snagged
in that circular washer motion. Carefully she extracted

arm-size roots, lace trimmed with rootlet filaments,
random bulbs, spores, geologic wonders of igneous
and metaconglomerate chunks from eras and eons ago.

The bones of long dead humans and even longer extinct species
jumbled with seeds of echinacea, sage, elm, shagnut hickory,
and groundsel; the salted scales of fish furtively played

in the mulchy mix, gases and waters rising out of the depth
until she turned from her task and let it all go, stopped
her searching, sorting, and starching. Someday she might

miss folding the laundry, but until then, she spends her time
gathering acorns, snake skins, and box turtle shells
to line her own pockets in case she ever needs to start a world.

Bio: Colleen Webster lives at the juncture of the Susquehanna River and the Chesapeake Bay where she runs, bikes, kayaks, and walks with her dog. When she comes inside she writes and teaches at Harford Community College, waiting for her next outdoor foray. Her poetry and essays have been or will be published by the Maryland Poetry Review, ARIEL: A Review of International English Literature, Tacenda, Milkweed Editions, Poetry Midwest, and the DMQ Review.

Contact Colleen Webster at errthgrrl@starpower.net