From Grand Tour, which was published in September by Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

I offer a friend’s young daughter a leaf
of mint just picked, inviting her to smell,
when the past alights

and that other garden run amok
encloses. I am
overgrown.

Crush of mint
under the heel of a little girl
enjoying her small but definite powers.

Rain last night, caught in a black bowl.
Inside, a face flickers. Whose?
Espejo, my friend instructs. Espejo de agua.

I water the mint
though it galls, this encouragement
of any…