Holes in the Hostas
Not much you can do
a thing or two
like saucers of beer:
all slugs, check in here
ditto for kale —
not doing swell
snow peas reliable,
sweet, crisp, stir fry-able
happy white blooms
mean Roma beans soon
a day lily bud makes it
if none of the deer takes it.
Each morning I savor
fair trade coffee’s rich flavor
and survey whatever
has spunk to persevere
5 thoughts on "Holes in the Hostas"
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Yes – flowers and plants are great, but too many other beings love them. I used to have an awful time with deer. They once ate all the buds off my rose bush! Enjoyed the poem!
I really enjoyed this snappy rhythm here
So glad to hear you got a kick out of it. You are a faithful writer and reader.
Hosta la vista, eh Vickie?
I guess Holes left me wide open for that.