The Last Garden

the last Garden

Finding a rusty nail in the half-black earth,

becoming scared for my hands

(swelled with secret rivers),

morning breath shortens, my arms

hang deadened at my sides, as

a hawk circles in the dark white sky,

watching my changing into earth and wood,

prepared to be angelic, arching over 

the final digging, at least at the moment,

for this time.

Reviews

[V]

This is really a wonderful writing and nice imagery you created. :-)
Somehow your style in writing reminds me of mine in a few cases...

[Ellie Howard]

love this

[0AudreyClaire0]

This is really nice with great imagery! :)
-Aud

[r. f. jordan]

brilliant work, in this, the speaker to me reads as if in opaque witness to the scene described. seeing to it that no trace is left behind within the perspective told. the first three lines "Finding a rusty nail in the half-black earth,
becoming scared for my hands
(swelled with secret rivers)," remind me of Langston Hughes. good work.

[Monica]

Your words are intense, creating a beautiful poem.
I really enjoyed reading this...it is well written and creates amazing imagery :)

[Emily B]

amazing to see work so worthy in the popular writing spot this morning

[...]

. oh, this is beautiful ... i live for moments like that ... they are so precious and so memorable ... truly exquisite poetry ... amazingly narrated ...

[None]

I love the transformation of this piece. There is so much hidden to be revealed within the lines. So lyrical and mysterious.

Love it.

deep write with strong imagery, enjoyed