Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Thursday, February 7, 2013


by John Grey
Again, your head into
what already reeks of spring,
another cycle, around and around,
like breezes, as if roots at home
grow into yesteryear,
their business-like manner
centers in garden soil,
pushes the old dead out,
draws the new life closer,
as deeper and deeper, holes are dug,
dirt throws back down last season,
burrows itself in each descent
into that entangling tide of soil,
as you float though waiting flowers
already seeded,
through stones from a world
far down and gathered in,
pebble after pebble
gripped in your hands,
tossed aside, everything but
this tossed aside in face,
it's how gardening
left moonlight hanging,
moves that never learned
no longer moving,
blue eyes, now gnomes,,
other growing overdue,
once planted in rows
for random rain,
scented and soothed,
now happy that the heart's
still beating, still warm,
but taking root in botany, not love,
the pain hardly felt enough
to remember those chancy times,
when it wasn't just earthworms
that still wiggled when cut.

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