Lockdown Poems
Planting I planted the seeds Into the dirt around the tree stump Still sap-bleeding out its last Where in a few hours Children will linger to play, as anxious parents Try in vain to hurry them past Leaning heavy on the railings - Already exhausting the dry last dregs Of a morning’s first caffeine As rows of parked cars Let the engines choke their low murmur Though it might wake you. But I didn’t come in Past the gate hanging slightly away From its post, and swung open In the crisp early wind That must have blown the leaves down Treading the season underfoot I planted the seeds Beneath the moss and the pebbled soil Kicked up by foxes Scratching for a meal In all that we leave behind, still Perhaps they’ll leave These just where they are Since they’re no good for them really Or even for us, yet, You not knowing And I not willing to tell what the earth Conceals in its silence. If the frost