In the hearts, on paper.

Caravaggio - St. Jerome (Italian 1606)

It rises in the final dew and kids are drunk.

There is a plant I discovered that grows,
Unwilling to give us its salve.

It has escaped from our usage,
It is inhabitant--it is out there,
Uncut.

Look first for the speckling, as speckling
occurs all around.

The disturbance of a breeze, too,
Is a dead giveaway.
A fungus nearby,

Also the sun.

Bring a notebook to document the leaves,
The throaty stem,
The stamen...

Oh sure, I know what you're thinking.

A repottable mum

The error in discovery lies lifting in the hearts of the searchers
Even before the fact, which is why, among other things,
The kids are drunk.