If you eat a flower
you will return to that place someday,
my mother told me.
Her pink hibiscus took her back to Hawaii.
My wild violets always took me back to my grandparent’s home.
They’re good for your heart,
Grandpa said months after returning from the hospital,
his heart still weak.
I picked unblemished bunches from the side of his garage
to share with him, to strengthen us both.
Purple crunched between our teeth with a subtle sweetness.
Over a decade later, we share asparagus.
steamed, soft, green.
It can cure cancer,
he tells me— proves with an article.
He bought me bunches from Pic ‘n Save.
3 tbsp. a day, at least.
While eating, he speaks of Revelations,
Redemption is in your lifetime.
Christ will come to your generation, Katie.
I cling to his every word,
but do not hold it as my own.
In the following hour I learn
there is no hell, no heaven either.
There is only sleep.
We all wait.
Just look in the Bible, it’s all there.
We will all return… heaven’s on earth.
He hands me Tupperware as I leave.
I deny it; try to make him keep his green cure.
Try to make him save himself.
Just take it.
I do. My hands suddenly smaller
and filled with wild violets.
About the Author
Kathrine Yets lives in St. Francis, WI with her lovely husband Brad. She instructs English at various universities. Her chapbook So I Can Write is freshly published by Cyberwit. The Animal Within is forthcoming from Unsolicited Press.