glass pitcher · before breakfast · cut this morning
a peony with the dew still on it. two stalks of delphinium, three sprigs of phlox, a little mint that came along by accident. cut before seven, before anyone else was up. the secateurs are still on the kitchen table.
the stems are uneven. the pitcher was the nearest glass tall enough. see the garden, a garden walk, dawn, kitchen mint.
now it sits in the centre of the table where the bread will go. a single ant has come in with the peony. nobody minds.
field-note — the bouquets you cut yourself almost always include something that fell into the basket on its own. the mint, the ant, a small dry leaf. you do not edit it out.
see also: a kitchen bouquet · a field bouquet · a birthday bouquet · the florist