Fannie Burlingame’s Herbarium

Magnolia grandiflora

Found in clearing inside a hammock between Minnesota and Pennsylvania Aves.

Coll. 23 Dec. 1886

We garlanded the stairs

with glossy leaves,

tying them with ribbons

red as cardinals.

My sister turned some leaves up

to show the rusty velvet below.

Now mildew freckles

both sides of leaves.

I never pressed May’s petals.

I knew they’d brown

like white lace rotting

inside attic trunks.

Sabal serrulata

Edge of scrub along Euclid Ave.

Coll. 5 Jan. 1887

Decay tames the saw palmetto,

whose leaves bend like broken limbs.

Where I snapped the stipe from stem,

fibers fray, though the teeth

still menace, drawing bright beads

of blood from my thumb.

Gelsemium sempervirens

Mixed flatwoods along Winnemissett Ave. Climbing up a slash pine.

Coll. 12 Feb. 1887

These vines still try to climb

the page. Only a few bruises

mar the vivid blossoms.

A room papered with jessamine

would overwhelm,

the walls crawling yellow.

Citrus sinensis

Center of Holbrook’s grove on N. Ridgewood Ave.

Coll. 10 Mar. 1887

Here, the collector may observe

both fruit and flower united

in unfulfillment.

Petals splay like bee wings

smashed upon the page, revealing

all those tiny anthers wasted.

No bride would wreathe

these orange-stained blooms

in her hair.

A spoked, red wheel of dried fruit—

no trace of the juice

that ran down my hand

as I sliced into skin.

The flesh blackens,

leaving the bitter rind

to echo on my tongue.