Sunday, June 22, 2014

poem, 3/13/2013

hollyhocks stood tall
above her in the garden...
such that she could scarcely
retrace the path of her rage

but the trowel must have
each and every stroke upon
the clumped, beaten soil
reminded her of the knife handle
that endured his barreled chest

like the planters stake 
that marked nearby a row of peas
and signaled the eventual

tilling of the earth

No comments:

Post a Comment