Nora brings us lavender and homemade breads. The bread is still warm, and it steams on my porch Even the roses stick out their noses in jealousy, Watching a love that is lighter than heat Still rising in the summer. Her smile works at the local nursery and I Know her mouth knows blossoms and leaves, She slaps wildflowers high fives when she's in Utah's mountains And kisses them and eats them, and giggles on their petals With her woman breath and freckles Lightly dancing on their rustic grace and hardy swaying green. She'll thank the fields And harvest some, and a few blessed plants may find Their way to a leafy halo that's growing Around her peaceful head. ----------------------- Every feather we find we put in our hair for the magic, But ravens are mine and Nora's are wrens. We moved to the city so sometimes the pigeons will hear From a pa**ing swallow who we are And throw us a feather.