Harvest

what turns up is not

always what we expect

 

among the new potatoes

cranberry glass    sharded

porcelain     the banded trunks

rattling like teeth in steerage &

England’s vanishing coast

a fond green smear

 

in the kitchen garden

a necklace restrings itself

gradually     thirties silver

grubbed from this mingy soil

 

what sort of epitaph in

these thin     bright droplets

soil turned beyond powder

   foundation stones in this garden

   refusing to give way

   go down

Published online January 01 2011.


The Open Issue cover image

This piece was published in ‘The Open Issue,’ the Winter 2011 issue of CV2.

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