Achillea Millefolium
Call it wound-wort, when rust scraped from the sword
becomes a blossom to heal the cut the blade made,
or thousand-seal, flowers within flowers small as stars or cells.
Test pollen to date a tomb, scatter stalks to tell the future.
Under the pillow it brings a night of dreams
or seven years of love. Call it Plumajillo, little feather—
the fronds found everywhere, even lining the starling’s nest.