I love poetry. Although I’m more a of a songwriter than a poet, I’d like to try my hand at more “serious” poetry. So, here’s an initial shot across the bow. The inspiration for this one was a mini-ephiphany this afternoon. My kids were playing outside at the neighbor’s house, even though it’s still kind of cold and muddy. My neighbor moved in last spring, and cleared out the fruit and vegetable garden that previously had occupied most of the yard, in order to make room for his young kids to play. The prior owner was an older man, and the garden was his pride and joy. It got me thinking about how something good and productive sometimes needs to be cleared out to make room for something maybe even better.
Peach Trees
Peach trees grew here a few years ago,
when the summer hung about us like a lazy river
and we let cool nectar run down our chins,
unaware the garden would yield to muddy March ground
trampled by growing children not yet born.
Now the dried out stumps of broken peach trees mark a line
the grass dared not cross,
rich loam meant for deeper roots and
heavy branches thick with fruit.