The Sanity of a Nap Amidst Mint

Oh, almost overheated

in humid sunshine, I
sit down to pull up wicked
grass out of an emerald bed
of mint. I feel like a

Gulliver washed up on a
perfumed isle. What a plant
is mint! As tough as port rope.
As cool as 1950s jazz.

I regret not cooking with it
more. Turkey, Arabia, and Iran
treat it with proper respect.

Shirt soaked in salted sweat,
I want to lie down to nap
on this bed of mint, sedated
by the extravagant odor. Such
plain desires keep me sane.

hans ostrom 2023

Green of the Herbs

Thyme leaves look like frog
tears. Sage leaves
look fog-green suede.

Mint is a warrior
with shiny emerald shields.
Everything runs from it.

What should we say about
parsley? Such a hard worker.
Then it goes mad and pretends

to be a tree.


hans ostrom 2019

Wonder: A Starter-Kit

(image: oregano--in bloom, as you no doubt deduced)










Wonder: A Starter-Kit


I find I still appreciate
remedial amazement: how
a bicycle stays upright once
someone rides it. --How
elevator-doors close on
one floor, open on another:
impressive. A seed can
become a sequoia. Laughter,
especially at no one's expense,
is a taste of paradise-pie.
A nose differentiates
between oregano and mint.

This is all still news of sorts
to me, an introduction
to fascination, a trusty primer,
a starter-kit I haven't,
apparently, outgrown.