Garden

by

Alan C. Keimig

I intend to set a spade
To earth and turn a
Plot between four posts
Calling it a garden planted
With my shrubbery before
The morning turns itself
To afternoon. Working late
Within the hour passers will
Recognize my efforts smile, wave
Before the sun is centered overhead.
Later when the lettuce sprouts
And beans begin to climb the
Fence, I will bend myself to
Weed the rows and pleased
I will at each end stand
And marvel at this garden thing.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at miedo
by: Rene Segura
from: Bogotá, Colombia

To visit all of Alan C. Keimig's poems, click HERE

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