'Heartfield'

There is a field that exists only in the heart — the one you carry from every summer you have walked through tall grass and stopped to look at what was growing there. Silene with its inflated pink calyxes, each one a small lantern. Queen Anne’s Lace opening flat as a plate. Buckthorn austere and sharp-boned among the soft things. Forget-me-nots so blue they seem borrowed from a different sky. Privet florets in their cream clusters. And then the pokeweed bloom strand, dark and architectural, arriving like punctuation.

This large dome pendant holds all of it against a dark ground, sealed under resin dome on a heavy rolo chain. It is the field you have been carrying. Now you can wear it.

For the one who carries a field in their chest and has never found the right word for it.