A rocky wall, a crumbling fence
A dried-up brook, a withered vine
A fallen bough held in suspense
That rests upon a clementine,
Unkempt yew side a tumbled post
A grim reminder of neglect
While lamp to spider’s web played host
Its use long past one would suspect.
This sentry by a garden gate
With primrose path and weeds profuse
Makes statement that fair shouts “Ingrate”,
To focus thought on life’s abuse.
We’ve seen the waste misfortune brings
And many styles that pruning need
Applied not just to vernal things
All spreading hopes crave care to breed.
Claire V. Bogdanos 