12 March 2012


There's a bare spot in my yard
Where the weeds used to be
If you'd ask then I'd tell you
It looks pretty dead to me

Over Coffee today I looked out on my plot
Some things, they say, need to be pulled
I put in a long hard day, broke a sweat
and a couple of shovels along the way

At least it was a place of pure live things
They fought their fights and served their gods
Striving in chaos bent and sharp
I must admit I miss the green

In the raw soil chickens scratch around
Well now those hens have a place to feed
Though they take more care than those old weeds
I do love fresh eggs - warm and brown