Maybe I'll write something called Rhubarb Reflections. I love alliteration. I also love the other-worldly look of rhubarb's beginnings.
Here it is again.
Red knots break the ground
Promise rhubarb
Soon enough.
Still now
It might be alien growth;
Still now
It might be a body
Buried in the garden
Rising after a warm winter;
Still now
It might be almost anything
at all.
I know
It was rhubarb last year.
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