Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Late rhubarb

Often I don*t get to the rhubarb harvest until after the flower stalks have grown.  This is late.  Way late.  No flower stalks yet.  It is already July 3rd.  Tomorrow is the 4th and friends are planning their barbecues.  It is cold in the house, and I am sitting under a blanket as I write this.  It is difficult to plan a holiday when the weather won*t comply, when circumstances conspire to quash celebration.

I am late to harvest the rhubarb.
It has grown thick,
Red and green,
In the remains
Of the garden bed.
When people ask
What I*m doing
For the holiday,
I think about the rhubarb,
The weeds that need
To be pulled,
The grapevine taking over
The crab apple
I think about being on call
For pastoral care
During the fireworks,
My daughter home from camp
Friday night.
It is chilly today
Overcast gray
The rhubarb awaits.
The corn in the fields
Is not knee high
This Fourth of July.
I am hopeful for sweet corn
Come August.

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