The Dangler And the Garden

Yes, the snow peas have grown thick
tough, yet still sweet in dwindling numbers
climbing vines falling in arcs of yellow
turning paper thin white and brown
as their yielding season ends

Morning in the garden fat brown slugs
ooze digestive slime on thick green leaves
pulling common lettuces down to yellow
then white and brown, but the snow peas
still arise above them leaving juicy pods
tough, yet still sweet enough for plucking
still on the withering vines hang meats

And reaching to pluck the knuckle sticks
and snaps a single silken thread anchored
to the vines the snap wiggles webworks
of the morning spider waiting still
far away and above, up on the towering fence
the rectangular metal of hollow squares
that separates in here from there, alerts
the many-eyed dangler of something amiss
in its criss-cross pattern made last night
now glowing in morning dew

Up on the fences the spider secures
the patterns that make things stop
holding them to protect the ripening
tomatoes like a spider should stop
little flying gnats and succulent
blood red tomatoes growing from green
the dangler descends on a long silk strand
fixing the anchor to the dying vines
strengthening its criss-cross waiting game
reinforcing the designs that hold in place
that broke from a careless cause

But here the spider grits its eyes
then carries the weight of its climb
to the treacherous spire, the chain
linked fence and awaits with all hands
unmired. Awaits for the coming
of things that attack, the tomatoes
protected inside, the rich red blood
of fruit safe behind dangler's many eyes.

Tiny blooms announce the day
the seasons turn to move
when snow peas spent in yielding all
the green beans sprout anew
And slugs roam wild in cunning flight
while spiders spin their webs and gnats
alight on tasty sprigs when all the garden's
wed. And happy suns reveal the day
not histories all gone gray, but new
things out of silent chance
just happening past our way

Happy suns revealed the day
when clockworks turned askew
when daylight came to starless night
and backs were turned to blue

and backs were turned
to blue
  • stu

    Mark, your playlist is so leaving a hole after the last 5 years.

    miss ya bbuddy!

    stu

  • I can’t have that. No more holes, while we still can fill them. You have some strange stuff going on.