I don’t know the names of flowers
Nothing that grows outside of your front yard
Or can’t be purchased in a Safeway floral section
I know poppies, roses, chrysanthemums
Although, I’m not too confident I could point out the latter
“Look at the orchids”
My partner says
I know that one:
Her grandma’s favorite, she told me
“Baby’s breath is great for filling bouquets”
She learned that working at Whole Foods
When the florists got lazy
And an eager bagger was another easy way out
I know flowers the way I know trees
When I see a sprawling monolith sprouting out of Seattle sidewalks,
“That could be an oak”
And a dandelion could be a sunflower if it grew a little taller
I do know flowers, I guess
Not well- we’re acquaintances
The kind that manages to follow you everywhere
Just on different paths
Hidden behind the wiles of stop signs and expended daylight
The kind you admire from across the elevator lobby
“That’s a cool one”
And I too may be a flower
Hopefully a cool one
