I do not love my Garden
I know I should
in a similiar love holds the chickens
2) I would rather be writing, reading
poems and politics, sports and music
paintings, sculpture, the art of the now
to some, I hear, composting is an art
3) I do my share of the Garden work
in silence, Phillies game in my headphones’
in my head, my head far away
Still, the Garden is tilled, but unloved
4) I do not yet-
But I do this out of another rarer planted love
I wish-Gardens were not so much of her love
I do not yet our Garden love
originally from 3-22
Now that that’s done, I need to
revise my Flower Show Poems
but I had to send the PaBac Agenda
revise my Jim Ricci piece and send to M
but Elling went to the groomer
continue revising my Southern Poems from last year
most of which still still lie lonely in a notebook.
But life intervenes and one does what one can.
At least I can give myself unattainable goals and move slowly
forward, like Neanderthal man, stonenotebook in hand,
writing when he’s suppose to be dragging the Sabertooth
back for dinner.
This is my post for today.