way poem #12: barrow and spade


wheelbarrow waits

it is parked
in the middle of the yard

the spade is at rest
and idly bides its time

they waited for me all day
but I
was otherwise delayed
not shoveling
sometimes that seems to be
the way

but now
I hear the compost call
the mulch has grown
in its demands

load and fill the barrow
shovel the muck from the trailer tray
mix mulch and horse-potatoes
in a mound
that’ll be tomorrow’s garden bed

and watch the hot steam rise
a smoke
wafting from the venting pipe
that’s good heat in there
so keep your hand away


the spade waits
patient again
it leans
against the garden shed wall

the barrow is asleep
could be its name

but they will be ready
when the call
to shape the garden earth
comes again
their way


© Frank Prem, 2016

Poem #3: way poem #13: sorrow and joy (up here in heaven)

3 thoughts on “way poem #12: barrow and spade

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.