poetry by j matthew waters


methodically she digs them out
comfortable on her
hands and knees
garden-gloved and wielding hand shovel
upturning clumps and clumps
of fern peony bulbs

she knows exactly where they’re going
and though it won’t be long
before they’re back underground
she wonders
in the back of her mind
when she’ll ever see them again

november two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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