CvK

Cabbage White

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1997-1999

Portraits

2000-2010

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30x25

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Poetry

 

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The passing, the passing

leaves, trees and the insects

in my garden, the passing.

 

Call me back to your garden

where we once sat in the brief

breath of summer.  Call me back!

 

There shifts in unplanned pattern,

white wings in curl of breeze

bouncing off the weeds, now

blooms and the garden wall

is vine-heavy as the shaggy days

of heat sweep with the tilt

of its narrow zone from here.

 

There she goes, one white petal

maze of nerves and fears

and we might flutter as she

given the sun and only one

short clipped day of nesting.