Asakiyume mita

There are galaxies, many many galaxies, forming a bobbing, swaying screen between my backyard and my front. These galaxies smell like honey, and I push through them to get down to the laundry line or the compost bin.

But seriously, don't the umbels of queen anne's lace . . .



. . . look like galaxies?



galaxies . . . I wonder if they smell like honey.