Fern ii

Fern ii
To know her
is to know layers of ocean
in ways you didn't before,
to identify moths by eyes,
to grow lychnis for dye,
to speak
in half-learnt sign,
to orchestrate jumble sales,
learn to paper-craft,
watercolour,
pastel,
bake
in ways that you didn't before,
to take succulent cuttings by Sunday,
pick apart ways to tolerate change,
to apologise,
to take responsibility,
to rearrange,
to distance,
to organise
sections until puzzles make sense,
to know her is to understand
love is not an ice sculpture,
not a half-considered sketch,
not a cake mould or an annual
or a reel to pass the time,
love is instead the oak tree
and her relationship with fungi,
with moss,
with the sunlight
and the air
and every single drop of rain,
love is simple, regularly met needs -
and above all,
beyond all else,
it's with her that I've learnt
how to unfurl
like the ferns do,
by water,
where a river
snakes toward the sea.