Anna in the Brambles

She had hidden the dark, oily seeds,
buried them deep in the dry side of the garden.
Winter saw rock-hard ground, silence between rooms,
white skies. And then spring, and with the rise
of string beans, peppers, foxglove,
the garden gave an army
of thorny, hungry spines.
She was uprooting them, swearing, bleeding,
when I found her in the dirt.

photograph by wordsforsnow


chris said...

one of my new favourites :)

Kate Horowitz said...

Why this one?

 photo copyright.jpg
envye template.