Once again, it's August and that means it's Poetry Postcard month. Here's one from my first week. I wrote it under the thrall of Mary Oliver's "The Messenger."
Maple leaves wrinkle in a breeze.
A bank of St. John's Wort.
Unmown grass. Dandelions
and plantain. My work today
is the same work as yesterday:
to love this corner of the world
I'm sprung up in, accidental
and purposeful as a weed.
A bank of St. John's Wort.
Unmown grass. Dandelions
and plantain. My work today
is the same work as yesterday:
to love this corner of the world
I'm sprung up in, accidental
and purposeful as a weed.
Comments
Post a Comment