Summer Enclosed In A Semi-Dark Cup

summer - enclosed in a semi-dark cup
locked with nine locks
scribbled on graph paper squares
in a quick hand, chicken scratch, you'd call it
from the first
to the last page, cheeks flushed
I read your book, studied
Latin names
what grows,
blossoms, bears fruit
gives me such pleasure
that I'd like
together with you
to be everywhere, but I can't, you run
too fast and then you laugh -
missed meadow-sweet - out of bloom already
can't find dogwood nor black-berried alders
you're asleep now in my dark cup
hidden away in canning jars, bottled, stacked on shelves
dried, you rustle in burlap bags
butterfly! how did you get in here?
like a fancy metal brooch
used to hook together a book of spells -
thick, redolent of leather, incense, the ancients
and the very first letters ever written by hand