The Sleeping Garden
by
S.M.R. Saia
Uneven ground, grass tipped with frost
Secreting what the summer lost
A tiny gold key, a Secret Garden charm
The buckle off the boot that held the Wall-E farm
Ghosts of groundhogs, rabbits, snakes
Pieces of wire, bits of hosiery and string
Toy spades and teeth from broken rakes
Stones laid and sunken to forgotten things
The frozen wilt of brassicas and jalapeño bones
The sleeping seeds of next summer’s volunteers
Squash and Beauregards and marigolds
And the sturdy first green of tuber spears
Still and bugless tundra where potential teems
A sleeping garden growing only winter dreams.
