Ema Dumitru


Collage by Ema Dumitru

Old-fashioned elderflower drink
mother made for us
each summer.
I waited a whole week
for it to be sweet
enough to drink.

Perhaps this heart
only shines with waiting,
breaking down
into tiny white blossoms.
Maybe by the time
summer’s gone,
I’ll be sweeter.

Maybe I’ll give you love
like elderflowers give their scent
when you crush them.
And I’ll forget,
I’ll forget everything,
just like elderflowers forget,
once picked and carried home.

They forget the heat,
the wind, the golden.
It will all be a nap
where I wake up
having dreamt of falling.

A picture of an elderflower
without the tree.
A picture of me without you.
Come for me, carry me home,
give me your hands.
Don’t you think loving
is approving of wildness?