what is it about digging deep
into the soil and clay we came from
planting annuals that will bloom hard
a summer and leave their tired root corpse
behind. today it was the red sallies
my grandfather made me promise I'd keep
along the driveway, my grandmother's
favourite, he said. they were never
hers, they were his snorted my aunt
once. they can laugh about it
in heaven, I guess. we are still planted
loosely here, slow-blooming our short
seasons before we are planted, dug deep
into the soil and clay we came from
3 comments:
I think you need an apostrophe in 'they were his, snorted my aunt'
what are red sallies? can you give us a description?
I'm not sure roots resemble corpses tho.
ah, the May 24 weekend! o Canada!
Sweet poem... did not see that ending coming. I liked the surprise. Our bodies have something to do with the new growth and fertile earth as once buried we are compost just like the "root corpse" are we not? At least we were in the old days before embalming etc. Makes me want to write a May long weekend poem.
"sallies" are salvias maybe?
You can hardly help connecting gardens and mortality, I find. "we are still planted' loosely here, slow-blooming our short// seasons" expresses it well.
You have "planted" twice in quick succession in the last two stanzas. It would sound better, I think, if one of them were a different word (rooted for the first one maybe?).
Post a Comment