ODE TO SAFFRON | Shanna Powlus Wheeler

–ancient curative for illnesses including urinary tract infections

I pretend these capsules sliding 
down my throat 

contain not chemicals from labs 
but saffron, 

precious as gold dust—
finger-plucked 

crimson stigmas of Crocus sativus, 
famed purple jewel.

I imagine my burnt orange
burning stream

takes its color from neither my blood, 
nor phenazopyridine, 

but from a spice pleasing to all senses,
seasoning baths

of queens and soldiers,
anointing statues and streets—

powdered talisman against plague 
at the price of a horse.

O that it could balance my four humors,
set right my yellow bile,

give me hours of uninterrupted sleep—
no sting or urgency—

as though nestled in a meadow 
of purple petals,

my skin ruddy-radiant 
with pollen.

Shanna Powlus Wheeler has published two books of poetry, Lo & Behold and Evensong for Shadows. Her work has appeared in the American Journal of Nursing and Keystone Poetry: Contemporary Poets on Pennsylvania, an anthology published by Penn State University Press. Wheeler, who lives with her family near Williamsport, Pennsylvania, is an English professor at Pennsylvania College of Technology.

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