Grace

a sonnet

In the author’s garden

The kindness of an early Summer day
That gilds tomato leaves with shining touch,
Shows cabbage moths, a trio, at such play
The damage they do matters not so much–
The chicory that sends blue shooting stars
Some five feet high before it makes its seeds –
The wren that flits in circles as it spars
With flighty winging protein that it needs —
Potato blooms and carrot tops that make
Contrasting stained-glass shapes in morning light,
This…