beyond me

I write in my study, coffee shops, churches, bars, graveyards . . ..  These two stanzas of “beyond me” come from the graveyard:

 

Magnolia’s skirt lies on a meadow lawn

her limbs are not delicate whalebone in a hooped petticoat

they’re like arthritic fingers

some fractured by a lightning strike

dragged to a brush pile

they wait for a match to flame

a cylinder mower whirrs

broadcasted cuttings sprinkle a green fragrance

Willow celebrates snow melt

squirrels dance behind a hard winter tune

Lady Banks adorns a wrought iron gate

in this stone-wrapped graveyard

© Cindy B. Stevens

23 July 2017

#mower #iron #graveyard

Photo credit:  matt-seymour-4Me7b2hUTjU-unsplash