lay the cut rose branches
on the shelf
were you expecting
light work
irrespective of universal causes
there was only a rosebush
with its own drama
growing, blooming, then
awaiting our cut
as a hand in a glove
can you bear that much
we proceed now to the garden
where carrots tug back
with grudging solicitude
and the feather blue sky
is someone else's crop
1 comment:
Nice, Graham!
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