Sunday, December 31, 2017

the masters tools will never dismantle the masters house

her hands move over the branches and stems
methodical, careful, at moderate pace
she snaps off the browning buds, one by one
her eyes are narrowed in concentration but
her hands are so sure I think she could do this blind
I think she could do this without any senses
without any tools, without any assurance 
that the sun would rise tomorrow she would still
be crouched in this garden, making her way
down to the lower branches where she is 
surprised by one pale pink late bloom.

No comments: