By Shirley Segev
© Shirley Segev
Permission is given hereby to all who want to use these poems personally for their enjoyment and/or share them freely with others: verbally, in writing, online, or otherwise, by copying them without making any changes, and as long as they do not receive any payment in return.
Contact: shirley.segev@sympatico.ca
So many weeds this spring all over
my garden,
where did they come from,
I don't recall them being here last fall,
and here they are, and how they cling.
I'm pulling, uprooting, killing, full of revenge
against one and all,
even as they recoil
how dare they invade
my carefully tended soil.
snap!
what happened to me
this winter
under those layers of wrap
did I grow weedy seeds
in my soul,
what else don't I know.
Focus your thoughts,
you might need to know
what you're doing
when the time comes,
exactly,
be ready
be alert
take a deep breath
you don't need to smile
or look thoughtful
or say anything
or worry about
your looks
or if the light is right
or if it's about time
inside or out,
who is or isn't there
what is going on,
or why,
if the time comes,
focus.
I know it doesn't matter
What happens to matter
Because life is empty
And meaningless
Then why do I stuff
My trunk for the journey
With food, clothes, books,
Pictures,
And all that clutter.