Issue One

Autumn 2011


Life and other terms

I split autumn perennials,
layer rhododendrons for spring,
lashed by winds,
lacking even good bones
against the virtues of age.

With full hands
I pull at heels of rosemary,
lad’s love sweet and sad,
bitter rue and yarrow.
Geraniums on the patio
turned out like children to get the sun;
the faint green of old bottles
waiting for something to be done with them.

I see living’s a job like any other,
that there are no true and perfect implements
to trim the edges, only working usages, like knives.

 

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Janet Fisher