Garden

When May rolls back the water colour sky of winter
The canopy of the northwest sky grows lighter with light.
Gardens know, before us, when sunny days attempt to visit,
While we wait for darkness to lift it's veil
Spring makes an effort to enter, the birds to sing.

I lay here in my winter garden, a blue plastic tarp strung
Over my head, rope stretched to post, the candy-cane design
Patterned around and around between the tarp and post.
A brown tarp under my body stretched,
I write this poem, aware of nature and happy!

Rain won't stop! I want to pound the metal posts deeper.
The sky, without the promise of fluffy clouds or sun,
And fairly warm, I could be warmer, fresh air surrounds me.
The fragrant community garden! Is that grape that I smell
In the damp, wet air? If only the winds would still,

I could perceive the fragrance of sage and lavender!
From the witches yarrow I conjure up the dream
Of my garden, which, in disarray before me confuses me
And hides it's essence. So much to do!
I lay my head on my grass purse to watch the rain.