It wasn’t long enough before the ground
began to thaw, before her garden woke
with sweeping waves of clover, the baroque
light gilding soft green buds, and all around,
wind lifting the early leaves, slow as a snake
curls on a sunlit rock.
………………………………….It might have seemed
miraculous—a ravaged world redeemed,
the clouds reflected on a sparkling lake—
except she left last fall, and he didn’t care
to kneel beside the bed, to coax and plant,
so wildflowers rambled through the weeds—
but still, her roses bloomed
………………………………….without her there,
white petals tight as shrouds. He didn’t want
this beauty she left behind,
………………………………….these tedious needs.
Ashley Anna McHugh
Latest posts by Ashley Anna McHugh (see all)
- The Gate - June 24, 2018
- Her Rose Garden - June 24, 2018
- My Mother Calls from the Hospital To Say She’s Fine - June 13, 2017