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Late February Afternoon
by Kristina WoodhillSnowdrops bloom outside our door
Their leaves stretch so slightly
Up and above the just warmed surface
Timid, white miniature bells
Down turned and sending mixed
Signals to the sunÂ’s late winter rays
Daffodil leaf tips watch and wait
In no hurry to trumpet their yellow fanfare
Assured of a show stopping entry,
And knowing that timing is everything
A goose pair explores
The man-made nesting box
Atop the small island in the pond
Of the fish hatchery down the road
Fresh straw tempts them
Mallards idly paddle by, seeming unconcerned
Soft quacks discuss the grassy shoreline
And more private accommodations
The unwelcome gopher excavation is making
Underground in-roads toward my greenhouse
And two, prized young, fall-planted cedars
The construction next door pushed them
Under the fence
Our cats watch but display no dog-digging joy
In the mounds that march mysteriously
Through their playground
My gloves on, raking small raised beds
I sift through debris that stiffly snaps
And enjoy the feel of the remaining
Thin crunchy shell of a yellow tomato
A fruity, bright balloon sucked dry
Cherry type my preference for this year
Sweet Baby Girl – oh, yeah!
Bright red, meaty sugar on a stem
I shake the marigold skeletons upside down
Planning for smelly edges to veggie rows
So-called guards against bugs
The earwigs seem to prefer
And shred their tender leaves
A garden tatted tattering I allow
My shovel explores the softening surface
That a frozen week ago gave no entry
Sugar snap peas will soon grow here
While crisp salad visions dance through
This Idaho gardenerÂ’s head
02/25/2006
Posted on 02/25/2006
Copyright © 2024 Kristina Woodhill
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Charles E Minshall on 02/27/06 at 02:14 PM This makes me yearn for spring, even with the yearly pest fights in the garden.....Charlie |
| Posted by David Hill on 08/09/06 at 11:21 PM Very simple and earthy in subject, and you have a great eye for details. Many lesser writers forget to include fine details that give the reader a picture, but not you. Pictures throughout. |
Posted by A. Paige White on 10/25/06 at 01:57 AM"Cherry type my preference for this year
Sweet Baby Girl – oh, yeah!
Bright red, meaty sugar on a stem"... There is just nothing like home grown tomatoes. When they first come in, I eat so many my mouth will have ulcers and yet, I want more. Sugar on a stem indeed. This verse was delicious. No sugar snaps for me... but oh, how I could go for some luscious Louisiana purple pod string beans fresh off the vine... You drew me right in...
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| Posted by Michelle Angelini on 02/21/07 at 03:18 AM Kristina, I miss having a place to garden. In some of the places I lived I could. One day soon. You've given me a vision of such peacefulness and productivity, serving many purposes. It's not only good for the body, but for the mind and soul as well. No pun intended, but this is so down to earth.
~Chelle~ |
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