There once was a hero crossing oceans and tornadoes to journey home. Now that home is cast in bronze and every garden is a graveyard. You are the hero, plucked, thawed, lifted. The stem swims and it stops until it finds a quiet place to bloom. So now you are in a museum looking for clues. For what exactly, you don’t know. The vase fits many flowers. There are many vases. And over there, plates, jewels, and scrolls. Another room. Another hall. Another and another and another until there is everything left.