NATURE Poem: Garden, by Andrew Greissman

Cut the sleeves of my shirt,
Cut the petals off the branches.
Gardening six whiskeys deep
I accidentally sheared the tops off all the roses.

A dark excuse within the brambles,
Leftover thorns along the roots.
Truth elixirs and million dollar venoms.
Smoke rises round a white streaked hat brim.

I’m rare like a steak is rare.
The orange snap of fat on coals
Punctuates two backyards away.
Jasper irises and carmine nails,
Where the vines grow wild
She’s laid out on her lawn chair in the shade.

Author: poetryfest

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