Poems and Phantasms

Another Season


This winter I am not looking in

seed catalogs, they belong to another season

before this third-floor apartment

before the divorce


I planted myself in that garden

for years, his property

that last summer I knew it was

the last, I gathered

stepping stones for storage, I transplanted

my grandmother’s mint, I pruned

tomatoes till my hands were stained

stinging with the smell of yellow-green, I filled

a jar of Job’s tears

grey pearls for my new windowsill


My first roses are untrained now and I never

tasted the asparagus I started from seed so

I close my eyes and feel

the roots and drive deep

the stakes and make

my plans for another season  

another spring

Comments on: "Another Season" (4)

  1. God will help the garden grow with nurturing loving water. This made me sad and it is just 4:20am. I will say a prayer for your garden and others like it..

    • Rick—Thank you for your compassion and your prayers…they mean so much! I’m sorry to have made you sad at the beginning of your day. You have made me happy with your thoughtful comment, and I wish you many blessings of happiness in return! ~Lurana

  2. I am happy now. Peace and Love to you. New seasons await!

  3. […] up one January night like a wellspring and transmuted the threatening bitterness into the words of Another Season. If I could not garden like I wanted to, at least I could write. And now, those buried dreams are […]

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