Lori Desrosiers' Poetry Blog

Poetry from Lori Desrosiers, from Western MA

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Ain't Summer Grand?














Spades, rakes, shovels shine under new starlight,
Now soft, rounded as statues, shimmer blue.
Tomatoes are black spheres, roots spread, grip ground.
Bleeding bee balm, gray spears reach for white moon.
Rocks piled, leave soil empty, yawning, silent.