Things Are Not As They Appear Poem April 6th, 2015

Garden Cleanup

 

 

The rosemary died this winter,

its woody stems peeled, stalks

broken, brown needles scattered

underneath moldy oak leaves.

 

Shovel and pruners in hand,

I alternate between trimming

and removing the herbs––

like tender wind-worn bonsais.

 

The rabbits chewed the roots,

loosening the grip of the soil

as I dig, and I remember the scent

of fragranced branches on my fingers.

 

Kim King © 2015

Advertisements

About k2king

Poeming to save myself
This entry was posted in My poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s