Day 11.
Warrenton Roses
The warrenton roses have been transplanted
moved to another patch of soil
I don't know if they've survived.
the second magnolia tree, the slightly smaller
one, with fewer blooms and yellower leaves,
has gone now as well.
I wonder if the azaleas still smell of summer
or if the peonies still drop too many petals.
but the boxwoods, even, with their bell
hornets and spiders' webs, have been pulled away.
The right angles have been replaced
by a twisting gravel path,
and Reader's Branch has been redirected.
They're laying a new foundation
where Cognac was buried.
but the house is still yellow,
the front door still green.
I stand and I wait, for the trill of
my veins to sound in my heart and the
whisper of home to break in my ears.
but there is naught but silence, except
the winter winds stirring dry branches.
I was just in the area,
I didn't think it would do any harm.
but the warrenton roses have been transplanted,
and there are signs, warning workers
about post holes.
The warrenton roses have been transplanted
moved to another patch of soil
I don't know if they've survived.
the second magnolia tree, the slightly smaller
one, with fewer blooms and yellower leaves,
has gone now as well.
I wonder if the azaleas still smell of summer
or if the peonies still drop too many petals.
but the boxwoods, even, with their bell
hornets and spiders' webs, have been pulled away.
The right angles have been replaced
by a twisting gravel path,
and Reader's Branch has been redirected.
They're laying a new foundation
where Cognac was buried.
but the house is still yellow,
the front door still green.
I stand and I wait, for the trill of
my veins to sound in my heart and the
whisper of home to break in my ears.
but there is naught but silence, except
the winter winds stirring dry branches.
I was just in the area,
I didn't think it would do any harm.
but the warrenton roses have been transplanted,
and there are signs, warning workers
about post holes.