Three brief thoughts after a week of shrubbery:
First you must find… another shrubbery! Then, when you have found the shrubbery, you must place it here, beside this shrubbery, only slightly higher so you get a two layer effect with a little path running down the middle. (“A path! A path!”) Then, you must cut down the mightiest tree in the forrest… with… a herring!
– The Knights Who Say “Ni!”
. . .
I find –
in cutting back the weeds and vines –
a low brick wall and stone
pineapples: forgotten treasures,
like friends I have known.
. . .
A thorn –
piercing glove and hand –
irritates, until even the pain
becomes normal (despite toxicity);
I’ve known people in that vein.
. . .
My work –
complete, finished, unshirked –
gives way to rest and sleep
and dreams of bliss, content
in the company I keep.
Well done. I like the twists and analogies in your stanzas, especially the hidden pineapples as found treasures like friends you had known.
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