Have you ever entered a room of beauty and forgotten what to do with it?
Have you ever encountered her and not wanted to explain?
It was a narrow green room, a mirror to my left, benches to my right, silk flowers that could fool you. She came out from the back and looked at me, waiting for me to ask her to make an arrangement. In search of the gallery her floral shop had replaced, I couldn’t switch gears. There was nothing I wanted there, not then.
Have you ever closed a door and wanted to go right back in?
Behind Cherokee Row:
a parking lot, bank letter on the sidewalk.