Dawn Boquet
I could tell you the science of my garden but I wrote you a poem instead.

The Bouquet of Dawn

What I thought was Angelica

turned out lavender instead of green

then mingeled with the snowball tree.

At dawn the the sweet scent of mystery

is the all the truth I need.

Carol Carlisle

With an excerpt from Susan Glassmeyer’s  I Tell You.

I could not predict the fullness
of the day. How it was enough
to stand alone without help
in the green yard at dawn.

I would love to hear the poetry of your garden.

4 thoughts

  1. Forest where we live / geraniums run amok / as if they were wild.

    Also: White-breasted nuthatch / hopping down the scrub oak tree / bugs don’t stand a chance.

    Scott and I write a lot of haiku. 😎 Those are two about our garden/hill/yard.

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  2. Oh I bet they were crane bill geraniums, wicked wild creatures those.
    Thanks for the haiku two.
    Nature is such a wondrous source for poetry 🙂

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