“Queen Anne’s Lace”

“Queen Anne’s Lace” by Emily Banks begins:

I used to rip it up
out of the ground and chew
the leathery taproot,
which tasted like a carrot
but felt like wood
inside my mouth and had to be spit out
into the grass. More of a party trick
than anything—I was proud I knew
the secret of the root,
what hardened pragmatism lies beneath
the feathered, dainty white.
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