Atonement

The winter was kind to the day lilies
and goats weed this year. They burst wild
showing off ambitious new roots.

It was less kind to that little hinoki
I transplanted in September. Alas,
reckoning begins. I pluck it from the soil.

Birds flit seeds where they may, freeze lines
rise, fall, encroach, the sun bounces off
this wall, but not that. Accident’s

ever evolving swirl leaves me forgotten.
I pick up my taming, trimming, pruning,
tall tales I impress yearly on my garden.

5 responses to “Atonement”

  1. What a great template for a poem I could write this week. I’ve spent a lot of time in the garden, had to pull out the Crepe Myrtle that didn’t make it (tiny) and am right now trying to catch up with e-mail so I can go back outside. Gardening goes so well with poetry.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Something so perfect about this line:

    “tall tales I impress yearly on my garden.”

    I love the deep attention in this, and the recognition that however we love, nurture, care, some things are beyond our control. The possibility for both wonder and grief.

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