Cosmos Chemos

THEODORA HELGASON

You invited the universe into your brownstone, the order and Harmony of these cosmos circling your garden of white marble and Greenest grass. And you took me to church even though I don’t believe In God (at least this one). Your being survives in the mind you made me: I think it was the books. I was a reader and you were a reader and Together we read by the fire, into the night. Your doll-housed pearls Of wisdom and Mansion-sized morals taught me magic. I long for the day When I finally put cosmos on your marbled stone. It is my turn to bestow Magic. Your medicine was cosmos and chemos, and words and books. I am sorry I have not brought you your cosmos, yet. You picked your Plot and we planted you in the earth like the flowers you held in your heart.