Yard Work Is Never Done

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In the mews of May as I long
to lay in some short grass of
an idle age, iris fall to ground
while fruit rots in rain and spinach
fails to come up when my garden’s
play grows too rough to tend.

I would take a bench’s reprieve
but there is nowhere to sit.

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2 thoughts on “Yard Work Is Never Done

  1. This is wonderful! I so know this garden and this feeling! And the last two lines are the perfect flourish: part chuckle, part sigh. The photo, of course, is priceless.

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