Altars
Barry “J.T.” Rogers, 1965–2004
Two sprigs of rosemary,
a champagne flute,
a black candle.
Three leaves from an apple tree,
a thin silver chain,
a baseball cap.
Two blue kerchiefs,
twenty holly berries,
a bar of chocolate.
Gray sand,
nine VHS tapes,
a pour of clear water.
Clean sheets,
a loop of wire.
A swan orchid in full bloom,
four pieces of pyrite,
a shard of glass shaped like the moon.
The six dozen dooryard violets
I gathered last autumn in
second harvest,
one Celtic knot that is small
and small, and red
and red.
Source: Poetry (June 2021)