The Gardener

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By GriffithsKL

Under an organic coverlet
tangled roots channel through clay.
Each threadlike finger, a plunge
into dark, moist, fecund paradise.

The shape is defined, turned, hoed.
A spade and a savage push cuts through.

The oily scrape of metal on soil
churns up segmented, sinuous miners
the color of waggling tongues.
And leggy parasites, their sultry wind
through fathomage interrupted.

The bed, sedulously furrowed and sown
by a calloused and grime-lined hand
swallows.

Silence, as unseen feasts, a million quickenings
and a thousand microscopic fornications explode within.

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2 thoughts on “The Gardener

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