style, flinging water from the second
and third floor balconies like hand grenades.
Librarians can’t shelve her, and the post
offices pile up with letters to
or from her. The taxonomists have tried
to find her twig by planting countless orchards.
We draw genomes and genealogies
from memory, in hopes of conjuring her
like alchemists. A group’s been gathering
night and day at the far edge of the field
to read out lists of names from every culture--
Kehinde, Lakshmi, Isabella, Asdza,
Elizabeth, Anisha, Dipti, Anne,
Priya, Sam, Margot--
sometimes she comes
only to join us, calling into the woods.
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