WITHOUT MARKERS
BY KENNETH POBO

In the basement in March,
I mark all trays. Sprouts
bump up--hyacinth bean
vines curl into fluorescent tubes,
abutilons hug peat pots. To get

the best light, I keep
moving them. By mid-April
markers mean nothing. In May
I transplant seedlings outdoors,
sure of old friends
like strawflowers
and nasturtiums--but

what does godetia look like?
Do they have red freckle
blossoms? And convululous?
Are they white buttons?
Natty and bright, they open.

Come winter, maybe I'll
stumble on their pictures
in new seed catalogues.

Oh, that delight of recognition --

I know you!
I loved you and hoped
to know you by name.