Sunday, January 31, 2010

Pruning In January

Wind upending dust.
Grass flat under time past,
Time future, us --souls at
The back fence freed, petals
From probability.
I would rather be
That -- rose mounded
On itself, frenzied--
Than pruned into
Ornament, wondering
In bone meal and bullshit
Where freedom went.


  1. I enjoy the subtle but significant changes you've here. The shift of frenzy (frenzied) makes it flow....

  2. Yes, I pruned it, didn't I? But minimally. I find formal gardens can run to unacceptably high maintenance unless combined with self-limiting elements. Boundaries, I leave alone: without some freedom gardens cease to be instructive.