Done With

Ann Stanford

 
My house is torn down--
Plaster sifting, the pillars broken,
Beams jagged, the wall crushed by the bulldozer.
The whole roof has fallen
On the hall and the kitchen
The bedrooms, the parlor.
They are trampling the garden--
My mother's lilac, my father's grapevine,
The freesias, the jonquils, the grasses.
Hot asphalt goes down
Over the torn stems, and hardens.
What will they do in springtime
Those bulbs and stems groping upward
That drown in earth under the paving,
Thick with sap, pale in the dark
As they try the unrolling of green.
May they double themselves
Pushing together up to the sunlight,
May they break through the seal stretched above them
Open and flower and cry we are living.
 
Copyright © 2000 by Ann Stanford. Reprinted by permission of Copper Canyon Press. All rights reserved.

Further Reading

Poems about Gardens
from Fairies
by Mei-mei Berssenbrugge
Letter to Brooks [Spring Garden]
by Major Jackson
A Parisian Roof Garden in 1918
by Natalie Clifford Barney
Angel of Duluth [excerpt]
by Madelon Sprengnether
Austerity
by Janet Loxley Lewis
Bulb Planting Time
by Edgar Guest
Digging Potatoes, Sebago, Maine
by Amy E. King
Garden Homage
by Medbh McGuckian
Garden of Bees
by Matthew Rohrer
Herb Garden
by Timothy Steele
In the Garden
by Thomas Hardy
In the Happo-En Garden, Tokyo
by Linda Pastan
Loneliness
by Trumbull Stickney
Lucinda Matlock
by Edgar Lee Masters
My Garden with Walls
by William Brooks
October (section I)
by Louise Glück
osculation for easter flower
by Sandra Miller
Telling the Bees
by Deborah Digges
The Garden
by Andrew Marvell
The Garden Year
by Sara Coleridge
The Mower Against Gardens
by Andrew Marvell
The Public Garden
by Robert Lowell
They'll spend the summer
by Joshua Beckman
This Compost
by Walt Whitman
Trees in the Garden
by D. H. Lawrence