The Garden Stirs by Devon Neal
In dark December, stiff January,
it’s always a brisk walk to the car
to start and turn the heat on,
or the weekend grocery trips,
the bags from the trunk like loud luggage.
In winter, the yard becomes a distant friend,
a grocery store acquaintance, no time to talk.
Then in April, with the first beaming day,
you notice the pale phalanges
of the hydrangeas now flutter
with the blemishes of tiny green lettuce heads,
and the phloxes in the corners
stretch taller than the hardy winter weeds
spreading aground like firecracker blossoms.
Let them stretch their new calves
and yawn, opening shadowed eyelids
in the young spring sun.
Devon Neal is a Bardstown, KY resident who received a B.A. in Creative Writing from Eastern Kentucky University and an MBA from The University of the Cumberlands. He currently works as a Human Resources Manager in Louisville, KY. His work has been featured in From the Depths and Rough Cut Press.