earth

by Ann Foxglove

Tuesday 6th September 2011 2:25 pm

I felt you near today

as I was pulling weeds out in the rain.

You’re never there when I read my poems,

buy new clothes

or put my make-up on.

But today

when I was pulling weeds out in the rain

I felt you there

watching,

over my shoulder.

The strawberry runners

were stretching out their arms.

Cooch grass roots spread out like spaghetti.

I remembered how three black chickens

used to scratch

between our feet.

I felt you near today

as I was pulling weeds out in the rain.

And I thought you would like it,

to see earth

under my fingernails again.

Comments

David Cooke

Thu 15th Sep 2011 20:02

Catching up with your recent poems, Ann, it seems to be that somewhere along the line you have taken them to a whole new level. This one like 'Peace' is really excellent: affecting and authentic. It seems to me to be a question of inspiration rather than just technique. Greg, is right. The precision and concreteness of the last stanza are excellent.

Neil Fawcett

Thu 8th Sep 2011 12:15

Tender, touching a positive sadness.

Ann Foxglove

Wed 7th Sep 2011 19:45

Thanks all - I think it's the time of year. xx

Philipos

Wed 7th Sep 2011 08:28

I've read many poems about special experiences when gardening and this is up there with the best of them - a really lovely piece.

Greg Freeman

Tue 6th Sep 2011 23:18

The last three lines are particularly fine.

Peter Asher

Tue 6th Sep 2011 22:11

On the surface the poem is very sentimental, but not in a derogatory way, and it lets one fill-in the blank of who 'you' is. I read it a number of times and each time thought of someone or something different and they all worked. Thanks..

Lynn Dye

Tue 6th Sep 2011 21:09

Lovely touching poem, Ann. xx

Isobel

Tue 6th Sep 2011 18:27

Oh - I've come out in goosebumps John! It would be nice to think that there could still be that connection.

A tender, poignant poem Ann. xx

John Coopey

Tue 6th Sep 2011 15:16

Four years ago I was working in Stockton, travelling up on Mondays and staying till Friday.
One Monday I woke up because I couldn't get the song "Moonlight and Roses" out of my head. So I thought, "I might as well set off early, have a coffee at a service station near Stockton".
When I got to the service station it was shut so I carried on to work.
Later that day I found out that there'd been a big accident just before the service station at just the time I would normally have been passing it.
"Moonlight and Roses" was my mother's favourite song.

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earth

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