ceramic, steel 14″h x 4″w 1995

This time of year I just have to talk about dirt.

I learned about the earth from my grandmother who fussed about in her garden;

Privately, contentedly,

Hunched and bent to the ground.

She tended her roses

Far better than her children.

She heaped silent appreciation toward fragrant lilacs

And blue-red raspberries

Never caring a whit about the state of her fingernails.

We worked together, she and I.

Turning the dark, worm- laden soil;

Ever impressed that after the impossibly long and stultifying winter

Nature decided once again to leave her seed pods

And shrunken tubers

Dropped to the side like a tattered dress

And reveal Herself

Utterly naked and unashamed

But for perfume.


One Response to “Possibility”

  1. Diane J Standiford on January 1st, 2013

    So perfect. Thank you.

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