Foamflower

Tiarella cordifolia

An island in a mountain stream covered with foamflower is scoured down to the rocks by a hundred-year flood. But some piece of root or stolon must persist, for within three years the rocks are hidden once again by a crowd of maple-shaped leaves, paired like open palms around the tall flower stalks— a gesture of acceptance or of letting go. And these their offerings are nothing less than galaxies. White stars storm in the heat of sex— long male streamers, a sharp-tipped female flare— & pull wandering bees into their orbit. Creation & destruction follow each other like night & day: even as the oldest florets begin to collapse, anticipating the inward turn & the dry rattle, pubescent buds at the top of the cluster are brimming with the light of imminent dawns.