Good morning, class. It is time to study flowers.
Johnny, I don’t care if the dog ate your homework.
We have our own models right here. Yes, Harrietta,
we can start with math: their angles, golden triangles;
the perfect addition of a bud, above and below; this segues
into physics for the day: the tilt and toss, mechanically correct,
the balance of leaf upon root, the pull of earth and sun; light
eaters, reflecting pink and lavender by way of leaving them,
untouched, on the plate of their surfaces, like broccoli in the cafeteria.
Sorry, Charlie, but chemistry is next: how and why each bloom
smells differently, all the yellows in a sea of cardamom, tea
(black and honeyed), coriander, and the saltiness of the subject –
small and unnecessary, highlighting every hiding element,
making every detail, specks that form the faces, white hairs
on the stem, brown richer from giving – more itself.
No way, José: I know you speak a little English and anyway
estamos bien. All that matters is we have
a little time to study flowers.