An Earth Day prompt. This might be the first poem of several.
not rich, not deep and galleried with crawling things.
Thin and unlovely it was,
speckled with decades of thoughtless waste,
glass shards, bottle tops, plastic caps, nylon string,
and older, rusted things that once has a purpose.
was tainted with paint spills and varnish,
and killer products supposed to ward off evil pests,
the stupidity of ignorant preference,
tulips over dandelions.
My garden earth,
I tend and nurture,
returning what I can,
the peel of dead vegetables, tea leaves,
the good things the earth eats.
My garden earth responds,
With the riddling of galleries,
the wriggling of earthworms and earwigs,
the spiral beauty of snails,
and the first prize,
the gold of the podium,
the mad scampering of blackbirds
as they dig and scratch, squabble and cluck, tossing and turning,
in their wild treasure hunt.
My garden earth responds with life.