By Eric Meub
Today I found the body of the deer
who used to eat my garden rose by rose.
I recognized her by the ragged ear
she flared once when I sprayed her with the hose.
Today I came across the bones again,
the curving ribs arranged in two white rows
about a wilting bush. I noticed then
the bud these ribs so carefully enclose.
Today, to fit in my familiar drill
before a business trip, I somehow rose
at five to carry water up the hill.
You’ll call it an obsession, I suppose.
On coming home I found my garden piled
with leaves: how had I let it grow this wild?
Copyright © 2014 by Eric Meub
Eric Meub, architect, lives and practices in Pasadena. He is the adopted brother of the artist, Susan C. Price. They respect, in their different ways, the line.
Eric Meub writes hauntingly, sacramentally, of our gardens, of the others we share them with.
ReplyDeleteWell done, Eric. One of the best I've seen here.
ReplyDeleteSOOO true!
ReplyDelete