They tell me your garden
\nis overgrown by burdock
\nthistle and wild mustard,
\nand if there is no rain
\neven weeds will wither there.<\/p>\n
I have no time to look:
\nI hoe my own garden rows,
\ncarry buckets all day
\nand sing to our children
\nto ease their memories
\nof your raving and fall to earth.<\/p>\n
They tell me less each week,
\nand I meet you less
\nin wind-tossed dreams;
\nyour screaming across the valley
\nis finally erased by wind
\nthe lowing of cattle
\nand vocabulary of crows.<\/p>\n
I pray for rain.<\/p>\n
[print_link]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
They tell me your garden is overgrown by burdock thistle and wild mustard, and if there is no rain even weeds will wither there. I have no time to look: I hoe my own garden rows, carry buckets all day … Continue reading