Roman.(Poem)

 
   When I was a girl, a neighbor would bring us dried 
   Chamomile for tea. It grew in her south-facing 
   garden. She'd snip the blossomed heads in the morning, 
   then lay them to dry veiled in old newspapers-- 
   covering all her counters, even the dining room table. 
   Give it to your family, she'd tell my mother. It will make 
   them sleep. I don't remember needing the help then. 
 
   The tea is good, but, for insomnia, the oil is more effective. 
   8 drops in the tub. 2 drops in 1 Tbsp. olive oil--rubbed 
   gently into temples. It is mined out from the flowers 
   with steam that licks the essence with a wide, warm 
   tongue, makes it drip--gold as glass--from the plant's 
   resin cells. And it seeps out thick with the sour scent 
   of apple skins. Its fragrance spins against the atoms 
   of a tired body and say what to do. This is how 
 
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