Convalescent
out in the garden
I cannot help the bug
in my stomach
Poems on the topic: garden
Poems on the topic “garden” on Poets.by.
Replacement worker
scab employed till I bled
a little too much
I have no company now
led a little too much
but I love serving the best
flowers in my garden
Gleaning
Yesterday afternoon, I picked and ate a ripe cherry tomato from my garden. For those who shuddered at my report of an early snowstorm two weeks ago, the real news here is the unprecedented lateness of a frost. Those white shooting-stars that were bent down by the snow? They’ve put out new blossoms.
It’s hard what to know what to make of it all, but this much I can tell you: the tomato was delicious.
Deep in the weeds,
the wrong shade of red for autumn:
last ripe tomato.
Microcosmic
visions like whole books
a history of land
a history of light
where all things end in a green garden
and some cherries
my wife lying with me
Edenic
at green noon
how not to try
the first pear
Raiment
I dress myself against the sun
go to listen to the gale
I publish lies but hope to be
just a little conceited
I dress myself for the dust
that great garden of a bed
Resting place
her grave lost in the garden
has been a serviceable friend
a false teaching which eases pain
water in my eyes
Antoinette
her own garden left her
to her red bed of velvet
the queen pretty as a horse
and full of time
the sight of a blade is sad
to the idle bread
Incipient
who knows how to begin
through the garden
ringing and pretty
New Year’s is of use to whom
a new invention
a noon at night
Landscape gardener
I cannot make natural
as if I rain
my head full of stepping thin
compasses of ice
Black thumb
so rank the yard that morning cannot break
I shall grow the dirtiest rose
Night music
they did not seem to take
the least notice of it
did not seem fit for it
the great harp
that I hear in the garden
after dark
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