Meditation on Weeds
by Frank Watson
Adapted from "Bridging the Gap" by dying_grotesque (2009) via Wikimedia Commons



In a settled age
We make our clothes
Of thickest weeds

We live in a landscape
Of yellow, the sky
Embalmed in weeds

We plant the seeds,
But what remains?
The taker’s weeds

We must cross
A bridge
That’s grown of weeds

For nature knows not
The iris from the weed

And from the fattest soil
Grows the richest

Weeds



Written for today's dVerse prompt, hosted by Victoria Slotto, with a prompt for an image-centered poem.

 
All writings and translations are Copyright © by Frank Watson, also writing as "Blue Flute" (2011-2014).
Year: 
2013