The Innisfree Poetry Journal www.innisfreepoetry.org by Sorina Higgins GARDEN COURTSHIP (with thanks to Edna St. Vincent Millay for the first line) Mindful of you, the sodden earth in spring seems heavy while I wonder who we are. The damp clods stick and stain my hands grubbing among muddy roots for fear of looking up and finding you have gone away with some small part of me without exchange. What is that light from your eyes doing inside my body? Looking down, I see our four feet on one plot of earth, our twenty fingers in one lily bed sometimes touching as they move the leaves, our two mouths shaping silently one word. You reap sweet summer fistfuls, loud with scent, lascivious of hue, and thrust them in my sight. GIGANTIC A thin path dwindled long and dim through rows of waking trees almost too green with inner growing light and Springtime’s outside light to be just ordinary trees. They all strove upward, pine trees reaching through the beeches, birches, and bare maple trees, tip-topping at perspective’s point where unencumbered sunbeams meet. A fly explored my fingernail with slim Proboscis, tiny rainbows tinting every puzzle piece of his segmented wings— transparent golden wings. A fairy fantasy, until I went crushing twigs and leaves with much enormous noise from my huge human feet. PERFECT! The carrots have a bright rhythm and the thin slices of chicken a smooth meaning as they lie even on the counter. Into the pot! Colors and scents changing under the spoon. I make the culinary music as I swing from stove-top to table-top, cupboard to fridge. At least some part of life has an instruction manual! – my compliments to the cookbook. Now, from the oven, tantalizing and aesthetic: that’s the way to make a meal. At least there is some part of life that I can hold, turn, and bring out beautiful. © Copyright 2005 by Cook Communication |