The yard is overgrown -
Brambles and piles of autumn leaves;
Grass to my knees;
A sparse, old apple tree
Bearing only the fruit of neglect;
The weeping willow leaves
Applauding in the wind;
The walkway stones crying out,
Pleading with me in their red carpet voices
To come, come and live in the house

I’m only dreaming, I tell myself when I’m not there
Which is nearly always
But I love it -
The damp earth hugging my toes;
The high roses reaching for heaven or me,
And I feel that we belong together
The yard and me.

10/18/2004

Author's Note: We're looking to buy a house we've discovered, and I love the yard!

Posted on 10/18/2004
Copyright © 2025 Alison McKenzie