I take your hand....

wet gerber daisy, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

One of my joys is to have books of poetry stashed on nearby shelves, just perfect for grabbing and reading a few poems when the time is at hand. Yesterday's book was The Collected Poems of Audre Lorde, a book that I first happened upon at the Bluestocking Bookstore in NYC, but didn't buy until later because I feared it's weight would be too much in my slim carry-on bag.

One of yesterday's discoveries was a poem about gardening and hope, titled "Walking Our Boundaries." I suspect that only I could be so charmed by a poem that speaks of compost (yes, it is all-too poetic, in my mind). An excerpt:

I take your hand beside the compost heap
glad to be alive and still
with you
we talk of ordinary articles
with relief
while we peer upward
each half-afraid
there will be no tight buds started
on our ancient apple tree
so badly damaged by last winter's storm
knowing
it does not pay to cherish symbols
when the substance
lies so close at hand
waiting to be held
your hand
falls off the apple bark
like casual fire
along my back
my shoulders are dead leaves
waiting to be burned
to life.

The sun is watery warm
our voices
seem too loud for this small yard[...]
our footsteps hold this place
together
as our place
our joint decisions make the possible
whole
I do not know when
we shall laugh again
but next week
we will spade up another plot
for this spring's seeding.