Forsythia, scaled and bud-bangled,
I pruned to a cover of clears out
for the check, by the squirrel-chewed
corn, silk strewn, parts tooth cut
furthermore, husks shorn over the ground
marked with paw prints.
The borers crushed the squash vine,
the dry spell pulled the underlying foundations of sage,
catmint grieved by the walkway,
apparatuses developed blossoms of rust.
That winter we cleared out our expectation
underneath the snow, cherished through the last
of the onions, viewed the late leeks solidify
to precious stone, bowed like sedges, their shadows
on the snow. That winter we cleared out
our expectation underneath the snow.