Mysterious garden

That loosestrife overwhelms the rose
in June, which branches bow when wet,
a secret silence when it snows,
how birds change key before sunset,

that leaves now green were apple red,
where wrens build nests behind the fern,
which clematis wear velvet threads
and which wear silk: all this we’ve learned.

And yet, it’s only as we turn
the soil, and sow and thin and hoe,
and tie the taller stems to stays,

and coax the unforeseen, and prune
to let light in, we start to know
what this year’s garden wants to say.

Published in Earlyworks 2018 Anthology