The Relocation of Mint

Soon after we bought the house,
Mother planted a mint garden
next to the avocado tree.

But the old world seeds took root
near the tilted base of the mailbox.
Letters had stopped coming by then.

When the sprouts turned green
like the shade of the cedar
on the Lebanese flag,

she picked them, separated leaves
from stems. A fray, discolored
towel held them like a raft

on the Mediterranean. The sun
sucked the chlorophyll until
everything turned black like ashes.

Then her hands crushed them
on a bowl of labneh*, smooth
as the snow of Mt. Sannine*.

To savor the mint, she sprinkled
droplets of olive oil, but nothing
outside Beirut ever tasted the same.



*Strained yogurt eaten for breakfast, lunch and dinner
*Mt. Sannine is a mountain in the Mount Lebanon range, east of Beirut.