the {poetry for lent} link-up

In the Garden

“As I take my spade in hand, as far as I can see, great clods of earth are waiting, heavy and dark, a hopeless task.” - Kathleen Norris, describing her approach to the contemplative life

I spent an afternoon killing

weeds, cutting

earthworms into pieces, tilling

sod into furrows.

My arms ached,

a line of bruises crossed

my thighs;

I felt powerful.

Then snow fell,

the half-readied earth froze.

I returned

to bits of weed and grass

rerooted, my labor

null and void.

I spent an afternoon filling

wheelbarrows, spading

clumps out, dumping

weeds in the back pasture.

The hens followed me.
They know Mary Oliver says

“Poems should have birds,”

and mine pecked greedily at worms,

shitting in the tilled soil.

This is not a metaphor.

My heart is not the garden.

Or if it is a garden, it’s one

I’m still afraid to till.

I wonder if anything will grow

with death, and shit, and snow,

aching muscles,

clay and roots.



Today is the day for our poetry link-up!  Bravely add your poem, original or not, to the link up. I can't wait to read them.

An InLinkz Link-up