Catch-All

Mother Dear, never apologize for nettles I yanked in fury from Lottie Shoop’s side yard — they stung me into seeing fairy mosses lilypad her middened juniper, the quivering gobble of her chin, teacup clicking dentures as she sprang up into her wattle hut and broke a rib of aloe vera — gel belling the top of that claw goblet. It didn’t cool the sting, and yet, noticing sunshine thumbing plums in a string catch-all — I was already well.