Eve’s Second Garden Filled with succulents and spines that scratch her legs and break off inside, so Adam has to pinch her skin, then suck and bite the sliver, his teeth the only tweezers yet invented. Nothing requires much water. Five months drought each winter turns prickly pears brilliant purple before they die. Yucca shade […]
Petit à Petit L’Oiseau Fait Son Nid
“I used to dream of living in a garden,” starts this richly colorful sestina about love and wishes.
The earth’s economy
“Just when I thought the day had nothing left to give,” says the poet. And then the earth’s economy gives, beginning with an impossibly cool and beautiful garden cucumber.
Where the Wild Things Are
A walk to a small secret place becomes a chance to climb—literally and metaphorically.
