The poems collected in my volume, There is no statuary in our garden except for the plastic spacemen occasionally surfacing, come together as a set of field notes of my experiences, especially, in reclaiming the city lot where we live. We have a small kitchen garden on one side of the house and a larger one, “the swamp,” on the other. The lessons never seem to end.
the garden looks great, so luxurious to have cut flowers indoors
a second sprig of laurel in my lair
against the deep velvet of Siberian iris
now we’re sinking to detail …a bucket of strawberries, to the office
For more on my poetry collection and others, click here.
Jnana's Red Barn 