Yesterday I spent the morning dabbling in the garden
deadheading flowers tugging at the straggly grass
listening to the fluting butcherbird
and I thought of all the gardens I’d grown
how they’d become less bordered more wild
each spring the red surprise of poppies
knotted roses flourishing bright suns
rocket taking off between pavers and even
suffering the prickly mandalas of weeds
now I want to clear a space
make a zen garden
place rocks precisely
rake sand
sit quietly in the fall and rise of shadows
Annette Mullumby (Western Australia)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Now that Uneven Floor has retired from active publication, no new comments are possible — sorry. You're welcome to share the poem on social media and comment there.
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.