Floyd

Overnight, bitterly cold, sage-green ice crystals, shivering hairs, formed on the leaves of the mint, and the camphor from the rosemary sprigs condensed into the crunchy bergamot sorbet that covered the meadows at dawn. Then, when the lavender...

Do you see the tiny roots swaying, with mother-of-pearl dusting the garden. Up there in the pale green mists. In the dew on the lemon tree branches. In the oils of freezing leaves that crackle like hoarfrost in your veins. Where the white, fleshy...