wild rosemary memories of the gardens of northern california the sprig she cut for each of us after the handfasting is on my altar still a decade and a half later she was roomy and luxuriant and he was mushroom puck heavy earth mother bosom and randy roving pan an archetypal pair but in our hearts we celebrants knew their future would not be kind rosemary for remembrance she said handing me the cut and fragrant twig her eyes wet with newfound love as she hugged me to her thick breast tears in a lace handkerchief and fingers sweet with spring herb a year later her pan found me in a beltane bower and tossed the condoms aside
(First published in Off the Coast, 2008)
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