Flowers fly from ships' foghorns and land on women's skirts and stick to them. If a woman is strong - tempered, loud - cloured flowers fly to her. If she is calm, mild and earth-coloured. If she is fun, giant open flowers. If she is quiet and stay-at-home, the forget-me-nots sneak up to her while she
is asleep. And she wakes up wearing a nightdress with blue flowers. Gladiolas when a woman is mad. Pennywort if she is mean and clever. Every woman's time for roses will come if she waits. And fly-traps if she keeps a close watch on herself and her nearest. Wildly in love, women are covered with orange lilies, but if a woman is a girl who is a woman who is a girl who is always thinking about sex for the first time, mayweed settle on her skirt, comfort her/scare her, comfort/scare her, comfort/scare her. Flamingo plants come when a women is growing old.
Flowers fly from ships' foghorns.

THE FLOWERS of WOMEN'S SKIRTS by Kristín Ómarsdóttir.

Found

The day I left for England, September 14 2005, my mom wrote me a letter. This was my first big adventure, and the longest time I had ever been away from home. In it she wrote a really beautiful poem, one of her favourites.

Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars
of light.
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,
the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders
of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is
nameless now.

Every year
everything
I have ever learned
in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side
is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know,
To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it
go,
to let it go.

In Black Water Woods by Mary Oliver

(In distance, we grew closer).