kitchen garden

but look at this kitchen it is a nursery of plants all the little butter-tubs we saved for a year are filled with seed on the ledge of the window that oversees the garden beds we are reclaiming from lawn aubergine and tomato capsicum and corn cucumbers climbing beans zucchini and squash we have pumpkins …

let the runners run

the cucurbits are away at last pumpkins have spread outside their circle the white squash has raised a yellow flower but trails behind corgette which sends fruit out ahead and puts a flower on top a little Carmen Miranda at last the cucumber looks like it might get serious it considered for awhile if it …

ruffling the skin

she cuts the stalk trims the beard away friseur to alliums ruffles skin until the loose flakes the air like rice paper like tissue torn away by breeze until the purple stripes the bulb taughtened to a stroking touch that brushed it clean © Frank Prem, 2016 Poem #18: prince little blue

communion of the spirit

    by stealth it is becoming akin to a spiritual obligation the execution of which is driven by an emerging need kneeling in the fading dusk he is creating holes in new-turned soil with a finger or a thumb inserting a slender seedling into each hole as he makes them firming the dirt around …

a little light (darker)

A Poem a Day in October 2016: #9 what do I know about this world I’m in I know that it has to be saved and I know that once upon an idyll time it was a garden but the garden is gone ~ what do I know about growing things I know that we’ve …