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wrote this one in the shower this morning. . .

November 18, 2009

“Winterizing the Porch”

In early November, after the four-day-rain
that had been Ida, you spent a day
taking the pots down from their perches.
You raked the dark earth, with it’s rootlets,
and cobwebs of mold into bags, feeling
out the bulbs for inspection.

The sacks of spent earth you carried,
door to door to stairs, through the house.
The pots up-turned and stacked,
pinks and yellows and rusted blues,
along the railings and splitting planks.

And so completed what I could not,
in one version–
the winnowing, and hollowing out of winter.

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