Viola pedate (Birdsfoot Violet)
— Glass, Model 667 by Rudolf Blaschka
Magnified thirty-five times,
the birdsfoot ovary
appears to blossom inward,
three groups of petals
in pale green glass. The flower
below it echoes the shape, but violet
as the cocktail I ordered last night
which floated a frothy egg white on top.
I didn’t like the taste (too floral,
luke-warm) but marveled at the glass:
from the top, a circle,
from the side, a coupe, which myth claims
was modeled on Marie A.’s breast.
In a dim-lit room, they’ve bumped
my breasts into the high risk
group, and suggest an MRI. What’s changed
since last year? I ask, half-naked,
still clammy with ultrasound gel. Scanning
a form, they say you’re the same,
it’s the regulations that changed. I hesitate,
then acquiesce. Zoom in enough
and we seem knowable,
if neither more nor less cracked.
The birdsfoot violet modeled perfectly down
to the witch’s broom of its root.