Try Somewhere Else

Another housecleaning poem. I wrote it back when winter was turning to spring. This same location is now a riot of beautiful flowers and colors. It’s still tangled and wild, but somehow at this time of year, it looks free and happy, not sad. That difference is very interesting to me, how that happens, one place changing moods as the year itself does.

Try Somewhere Else

Beyond the shed is a circle-full of stalky brown
dead plants
enclosed by wire fencing three feet high
which is
keeping out
I’d like to know because
who’d want anything to do with that tangled mess
Or keeping in
because those plants are
quite a distance beyond hoping for anything better
and can’t make a move
The whole scene is despair in a chilly spring breeze
under a blue sky
that’s trying to put in a few good words of encouragement
but it’s just wasting its time

Small Landscape #12 6-13 small


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