The Single Girl’s Bed
Years pass, but in my
dreams
the kitchen
door still leads to my first
garden, pale zinnias waning in
shade
daylilies roaming
through ivy.
My glorious ignorance! Each year to
start again.
3 thoughts on "The Single Girl’s Bed"
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What a wonderful poem.
Jennifer & I just came in from garden work expressing to each
the limitations of age and the spontaneous growth that can overwhelm. Also your title adfs just the right twist.
My glorious ignorance! Each year to
start again.
Nice.
Love the pairing of seemingly disparate ideas in “glorious ignorance.” And makes a fabulous ending with “Each year to / start again.”