I thought my garden would be growing full
but I’m just gathering soil.
— gathering soil —
I scrape it from my wandering boots,
gather the dust from the streets,
sieve the filth from the air
— gather it together —
Then breath my dreams into it,
lightly whisper my spells upon it,
cleanse it worthy of my garden.
— and —
Here it is my life one third gone,
but I’m still gathering soil.
— gathering soil —
For the garden I thought
would be strongly growing,
brilliantly flowering by now.
— … 2011 —
At twice twenty five with one third ahead,
the wandering remains,
even as my garden bears fruit,
— still gathering soil, gathering soil —
With Tina James for Bart James, Louisville