Dusti Rodes

2014-03-05 12:00 am

Picking up the Pieces

The wind ripped up my roses,
Tore down the tomatoes,
Mangled the mint;
Crucified the coriander,
And the carrots.
Belted the beans,
Both French and Runner.
Obliterated the onions,
Lashed the lettuces;
Bruised the beetroots.

The mighty sunflowers sagged,
And the potato heads were
Pulverised to pulp.
As for the apple blossom,
It wilted with the weather.
The snap-dragons snapped,
The foxgloves fought well;
But only went a couple of rounds;
Till they too, joined the lupins on the ground.
The hollyhocks held their heads up,
When even the willow waivered.

And I am left,
Picking up the pieces.


Dusti Rodes (2006)