dwarf pines

by on February 13, 2011 :: 0 comments

the cold months came and
still you’re out
sizing yourself up against

the saplings in your backyard:

jealous of their roots
and the ability to bear fruit,

shouting at the wind
for stripping all the leaves
from their branches

and waving your hands in the air
like the ring-leader of

a circle of children around
a wounded bird,

poking at it with sticks,

refusing to let it die.

editors note:

editor’s note: There’s more than vicarious voyeurism in this; there is cause and effect. Without the tenacious gardener, the most beautiful roses never bloom. – mh

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