As One

As One

Only yesterday, I found
the seeds you bought me,
on a sagging basement
shelf—miraculously dry.

There was no note,
might one have said—
with these, the past and present
exist simultaneously?

There are dozens of packets—
a well deep with flowers to bed,
many with names
and shapes I do not know.

I will plant them as closely
as we were once.
A skein of color so entangled
it dissolves with distance to a singular blaze.