Moving sideways, crab-like, at cross purposes,
We cross each other's path, but sidestep
Confrontation. You, the doughty engineer,
Would tame the land around us, make it
Orderly and ordinary with your rows
Of cliched flowers, herbs and fruits
And vegetables, while I would have
The wilderness, the soul of what
Surrounds us, keep its place close
To our weedy lawn. Perfection, order,
Both have worth, I guess, but chaos
Calls the tune. Embrace it. It's not all
That bad, whereas your precious cultivars,
For want of rain or sun or something,
Die, so you must start again. You fight
With nature, and she wins. It might be best
If you move sideways, and don't cross
Her path.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 374 times
Written on 2019-10-09 at 02:13

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