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.