song from a ramshackle shed

i’ve never been much of a gardner but learned to appreciate it through the eyes of a photographer. this poem is one of a series about my new-found deep appreciation of gardens.

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  • A ladder held my overweight frame,
    the cordless trimmer cut, briefly made claim.

    slashing back the summer’s overgrowth,
    twig-stabs cause quietly-uttered oaths.

    foliage falls, collected then shredded,
    masticated material, compost-bedded.

    hedge cuttings slowly rot and decay,
    warm mulch patiently waits organic clay.

    sheltering from rain in ramshackle shed,
    spiders busily spin, slowly webs spread.

    Jack keeps me company, faithful friend;
    I viewed this photo, then pressed “send”

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