When I prepare the yard for winter,
the time when all is stark and lost,
the dead have wilted, scruff and ragged –
and I remove the chaff and croft.
As I gird the garden, whether
further growth is wont or not,
bedded mounds of soil and leavings
cover greener, fledgling thoughts.
Seeded verse on sorted papers
things that sleep beneath decay
seedlings of the spring and morrow
beauty fit for flow’red cliche’
Here I leave the hopes of summer
warm enchantments, an enclave
hidden from the weather – bitter
though purposed to save.
Eavesdropping in the produce section,
I overheard an Asian grandmother
and her grand-daughter discussing
how to julienne carrots for stir-fry.
She said that this careful cutting
takes time, but the vegetable
remains firm and crisp
in the prepared dish,
It will not cook away too much
Or soften in harsh heat
Another day, I walked past two men.
The elder man,
was explaining carciofi
to the younger man, a teen,
and how the artichoke
should be carefully prepared.
the rough exterior leaves,
to reveal the soft, white interior for cooking.
The substance lies on the inside.
Elders instructing the young,
there is significance to preparation.