Saturday, July 4, 2015


Into the garden and waiting.  Truth to tell these are cherry tomatoes waiting to become orange jewels.  So, into the garden they go, with wooden support (much like a tree benefits from trunk) and the most precious of all -- water.  Mulch, too --  a combination of so much.

I'm thinking that a poem is much like this cherry tomato plant.  Waiting for dirt to deepen roots which are nourished by water & mulch.  Pen & ink & memory.

What's on the menu for July 4th?  Well, not these tomatoes.  But much to savor with friends across the Bay.

1 comment:

  1. p inflight 42501

    some way of emptying, some perfect cancellation of stored-up history, she seeks a space in which to lay her take onit, her personal jazz score, all contrapuntal against the norm, attempting an orderly progression and the wild card of interplay which is the governing rhythm of her combo--invention? is that the right word?

    and the blank formless space they move through. Life forces us to cut some wide and unconscious path through the homelands of others, wildly, disdainfully, we fly--the air is whose?

    This afternoon all finds a place on the page...all is connected...but how?