Ants swarm over a sugar maple’s
spigot and sap bucket.
In earth and in air, green spirals
uncoil.
Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full Green Repose collection, click here.
Tag: Garden
GARDEN DIMENSIONS
“They already were like gods
made in Yahweh’s own image
and didn’t even know it.”
“I could see the Woman would be easier
to convince. She appreciated color and
the bouquet, where the Man noticed
only the fruit’s heft and taste.”
Every snake has its own hole.
Sometimes a snake is just as snake,
Doctor Freud.
And the Serpent went on to make a fortune
developing shopping malls lined with retailers
promising to cover everyone’s nakedness.
* * *
God creates a Helper for the Man
and she helps him, all right:
helps him get into trouble,
helps him to the forbidden fruit,
helps him get ejected from Paradise.
Not only that, but I’d venture
she believed she was doing something
beneficial for him all along,
something for his own good.
(And it was very good)
* * *
Where has Eden gone? Maybe
it’s now ahead of us, down
the road, rather than behind
with its gates shut tight.
As for Original Sin,
life’s not fair.
Some parents gamble
away the mortgage,
their children’s
college tuition.
Others get to be boss
through the injustice
of genetic roulette.
But that’s not really
part of this story.
* * *
Where do the other people come from?
Maybe the question becomes, for us,
where do other people COME FROM?
You! My neighbors! My antagonist,
my friend, my spouse, my children?
Perhaps they come from that other couple
God created, in the first creation story,
just before Eden. Perhaps they, too,
are ejected from their own Eden.
Perhaps there were other gardens
that were also released –
the ones whose stories we’ve forgotten.
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
For more, click here.
GENESIS
Each seed, each root, each bud
unfurls on schedule. Melting
and rain come together.
In the daylight you open
so slowly you do not hear
their snap. Between pale tendril
and miniature leaves, we will gaze,
then, no longer doubting
our own inward spiraling galaxy.
Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full Green Repose collection, click here.
EVEN IN WINTER GARB
cardinals singing boisterously, 5 a.m.
a raven or two in our yard
regular visitors
under our bird feeder
corn / cracked corn in the mix
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
For more, click here.
GIVEN
a strip of land
to develop
or let go wild
or trash
you make your mark
me, I think I’d rather farm
or run a trap set
drawing on something
in my bloodline
more than the banker
but this is, after all, in a city
Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
For more, click here.
SQUIRREL TAXI
who knows exactly when it happened
that he realized he held more in common
with squirrels than any of his colleagues?
he couldn’t quite fly, no matter how much
he admired birds, and had climbed
enough trees as a kid to nearly qualify
still, he had little taste for nuts, other than cashews,
unless you mean a strange people,
and he rarely raked fallen leaves
maybe it was all a matter of some vague sense
he didn’t exactly belong in this apartment or house,
except by clandestinely rearranging his peculiar insulation
maybe it was simply a nickname
for the way he rummaged frenziedly in search
of some missing item suddenly remembered
he would dash, then, in and out of the trap
in and out of the trap and, with a snap,
wonder where he was being carried
Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To read the full set of squirrelly poems, click here.
THIS OLD HOUSE
I used to like the Public Broadcasting System series, back before I bought an old house. Now it’s too painful. Look at all this old wiring, the plumbing problems, the rot and warping, the fact the bulkhead needs replacing. The flaking paint, again. (Bulkhead? Didn’t even know what that was beforehand.)
What else do you want to know about New England?
~*~
For more on my poetry collection and others, click here.
PULL UP A SEAT
It’s a kitchen table, rather than a largely ignored dining room. Or outside, in the rain. Or even a restaurant or diner.
Well, in one of the poems, it’s linen covered beside a black pond. But that’s for a formal occasion.
As for the rest of the series, the pieces reflect home and family and a calling to intimacy. How informal do you want to get? And how do you like your tea?
~*~
For your own copy, click here.
HAY AND STRAW
Feeding bunnies, I’ve learned the difference. Hay is healthier than straw.
But when it comes to mulch, straw’s better. Leads to fewer weeds.
~*~
Back to the Farm
“You want first-cutting? Or third?”
October, a dash to the farm for two more bales of mulch hay
a half-dozen ears of sweet corn, gourds, etc.
and then the wine store
before grilling thick pork chops
poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
~*~
For more home and garden poems, click here.
WITH OR WITHOUT INCENSE
Every autumn, I drain and put the hoses away. Shut off the water. Move other stuff into the barn and shed.
Just one more round of rituals that could be accompanied by incense.
~*~
For my home and garden free poetry collections, click here.
Jnana's Red Barn 