Beth Roberts

All for the fingers: the part like money, the part for eating.
Lowdown and flattened to lawn for the profile, I figure

the leaves too round to nipple like poplar and less like change
than eucalyptus (sold cold to the winter nuptial). Opened

the hot-colored flower--eye or mouth in turns--looks askant,
aware, ability on fire, a beauty so briefly delinquent.

Flexing blossom, acquiescent root, moving cursive in the dirt.
Edible scrawled there, from the sprawling mouth to the flower.