“In Her Garden” and “Fresh News”
– Poetry by Annette Gagliardi – December 19, 2018
In Her Garden
Big mama said she’s plum gone!
There’s no more chunky, copper
moon walking over her head.
She reserves the right to wear white
whenever she feels tight
with the word ‘communion’ in her mouth
and swallow tail’s black image against the wall.
What was distinct and whole
is now shadow and mist,
her retrograde lament
morphed and flung open
now nestles in the caress of morning
and she dries off a different way
says she may stay a while longer.
The vacant age of memory
lays waiting in the balance,
the mingled smell of seeds
tiny, blue-black and brown.
She won’t know what she’s got
until they’ve grown.
What tenuous link,
germination and stasis.
Imagination fertilizes more
than beans and lettuce.
This morning the dew sparkled on the fresh-grown grass
and the yellow tulip I have been observing has opened into
full-flower and spun its gold into the universe
as a way of reducing the damage.
A young Cardinal sang its first song, which was returned
in kind and while I sat contemplating nature’s gifts.
The Holy Spirit joined me and confirmed that “all
is well and all is well, and all manner of things are well”,
Spinning through my blood is the big “C” meandering
its way through my body unfurling its majesty.
The sun slides over the edge of today – white lighting its
way upward and flowing in all directions as if
it were water. Only light and water can flow like
love into hearts and bodies, minds and cells –
except for the big “C” that flows while investigating,
castigating, conquering, and devouring
each cell encountered –
its sparkle marking the trail.
About the Author – Annette Gagliardi
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