Like an orphan
and sadder than the match girl
No one looks into her baleful eyes
No one notices her feet are muddy,
and her toes overgrown with weeds
She still wears flowers, faded,
In her matted hair
the petals tangled with interloping insects
Visitors arrive to eat and run
As autumn waits impatiently on the threshold
to claim the season
And I,
discouraged,
do not know where to begin!
And I,
discouraged,
do not know where to begin!
this is a bit sad...it is hard to know this season...between one and the next...knowing most will go to ground soon for the long sleep
ReplyDeletemine also but not because I don't know where to begin but because it is still too freaking hot out there to do anything.
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ReplyDeleteLovely photos and prose, I am still hiding inside from the heat.
ReplyDeleteIt's that not knowing how to begin that gets me, especially since i'm no gardener. That's one reason i admire people who are.
ReplyDeleteGood to see some poetry again. I guess most gardens would feel somewhat neglected now that things are quickly winding down.
ReplyDeleteThis is so beautifully expressed. August is the "let it go to seed month" so it's OK, you know.
ReplyDeleteOh, your poor garden! I felt quite sorry for her. Maybe you should introduce her to a handsome gardener just for a day or so :)
ReplyDeleteHa! Were you looking at my garden when I wasn't looking? I'm beginning today, with the first weed that comes to hand!
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