The Garden

For the second entry of Week 3, I chose Marianne Moore as my inspiration. I sought through her fondness of the "natural", and her great care of her usage of words, to emulate her style. Her piece "Poetry" was my favorite of the three poems listed, particularly the lines:

In the meantime, if you demand on the one hand,
the raw material of poetry in
all its rawness and
that which is on the other hand
genuine, you are interested in poetry."

With this said, I wrote this piece:

He broke the land in morning.
The furrows of
dark earth ready, awaiting
spring planting.
The weather cooperated
nicely.
Baskets of bounty to come,
resting dormant in paper wrappers,
they would one day hence grow
in the fertile soil.

Planting time.
The seeds gently
tucked into earthy beds
soon begin to yawn and
stretch toward sunlight.
Verdant stalks bear
brilliant blossoms
that turn into regal rewards.

Harvest time.
The heat bears down on my
straw hat, even in the early
morning.
I take my willow basket
on my arm and set off to gather
the first fruits of summer.

How like our lives.
Born into sunlight;
grow to maturity; and
bear fruit in our prime. Then,
after our lives are spent
we return to dormancy.