The Wet Garden
In the wet garden this morning, I saw a teeny tiny woman made of leaves and herbs, with the orange bloom of a woodland poppy for a hat. When she realized I'd seen her, she hopped behind the slim stem of a trillium. When I bent down to get a better look at what the devil that really was, there was nothing there.
-May 11, 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.