Tag Archives: garden

The Open Door

This late day
of Fall sun
ran away from
a bank of gray clouds.

I stand in
the back yard
in the bitter-smelling mums
and see the door
forgotten, open.

And then her hand
shutting it quickly
against the swift cold rain.

Copyright Kay Winter

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Wild Garden

The white roses grow wild
in the garden
season after
neglected season.

The moonflower
reseeds itself in
the cracks of the flagstone path
and the black ivy creeps across the patio
and up the walls of the white house.

A woman’s pale face watches
from the dark windows,
keeping watch.

One summer morning,
when the house and the garden
have become the same green barrow.

She strips off the black dress.
Tears the white veil.
Tears the black veil.

Rips the vine
from the door,
from the back gate,
and walks naked
into the summer fields.

– Copyright Kay Winter

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Collage Poem: Bend Down All the Flowers

AllTheFlowers

Bend down all the flowers
until your face is up
into the blue spring lilac
barefoot all the summer mornings
until dahlia sundown passage
of zinnias and the last cornflowers
on the table in the hallway
toward autumn
the door left open
for the yellow drift down.
– Copyright Kay Winter

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Nature

Wait with me
in the grass
while the dandelions
swell
burst to yellow
parachute
and land again.

Wait with me
while the green spears
creep along the garden fence
spiral out
from lavender
to violet
then close, fade, and drop
small brown seeds.

Wait with me
while the branches above us
bud and leaf
canopy our patient bodies
redden and fall to brown
rest
bud again.

Wait with me
while the skies
pass over us in countless
passages of light and dark.

Wait with me
for the first robins
and the last
and their return.

Copyright Kay Winter

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Nature

Wait with me
in the grass
while the dandelions
swell
burst to yellow
parachute
and land again.

Wait with me
while the green spears
creep along the garden fence
spiral out
from lavender
to violet
then close, fade, and drop
small brown seeds.

Wait with me
while the branches above us
bud and leaf
canopy our patient bodies
redden and fall to brown
rest
bud again.

Wait with me
while the skies
pass over us in countless
passages of light and dark.

Wait with me
for the first robins
and the last
and their return.

Copyright Kay Winter

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