Shade Garden
Cedar, Holly, Redbud
loom over the beds,
so no surprise when
the shovel thumps.
Roots, thick like arms
I fear to sever. So I paw
the soil with a trowel.
Fling dirt back in my face.
Plunge gloved fingers
tease apart the roots–
Hosta, Astilbe, Coral Bell.
Crumble clods in each hole.
A robin oversees my work.
Flitting down from my fence
he sucks worms and grubs
from the upturned earth.
9 thoughts on "Shade Garden"
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Beautifully observed and so true to the gardening experience, as I know firsthand. A mixed blessing, ain’t it?
Thanks so much! Yeah, and I’m no expert, so I probably make it harder than it needs to be.
Very evocative piece! I love the interconnectedness and symbiosis you create with the Robin!
Thanks very much! I told my wife the Robin and I had a symbiotic relationship. She said: “Yeah, but what do YOU get from it?”
“Hmm. Company, I suppose.”
Theodore Roethke meets Ross Gay in Lexington, KY. Great job.
We would all wish to have that kind of talent. Thanks so much for reading!
Those are two great poets to be compared to! This poem is so concise and yet it has all the sounds and descriptions it needs to work. Great job!
,Coral Bell.
Crumble clods in each hole.
A robin oversees…
The peace and slightest unquiet of tearing a clod of earth apart. Just a bit. Maybe because the gardener is gentle.
Loved this piece.
Thanks, Manny!