In the Winter Garden


I am in a winter garden

Weeding out the chickweed and the thistles
Between the rows of wilted cabbages
I find lumps of coal
The kind they used to put in
The Christmas stockings of bad children
And shoes, not my size
With those uncomfortable pointy toes
Of the sixties
I load the weeds in the wheel barrow
Along with the coal, and the shoes
That don’t belong to me anymore
And realize I am in

Someone elsesĀ  winter garden


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