the new yard, gravel and rock

bare ground muddied in recent rain

lies fertile on the mind


for dogwood, pink and white,

a pair of redbuds, either side of the drive,

a couple of brooding lilacs next to the house


out back, on the hill, where the water has run

into the basement already, the mind has placed two apples,

a peach, and a fish pond


all this gardening, digging, hoeing,

mulching around roots, smacking dust and soil

from knees of jeans and crimps of skin

presupposes the pinoak, now a sapling,

draping its green curtain over it all


shade an old man

might remember he wanted to see

as he sits on a porch swing under a broken gutter

before a house long in need of paint

in the shade of that tree

Published by

Patrick Dobson

Patrick Dobson was founded in 1962. He is a writer, scholar, ironworker, and poet who lives in Kansas City, MO. He is author of two books with the University of Nebraska Press, Seldom Seen: A Journey into the Great Plains (2009) and Canoeing the Great Plains: A Missouri River Summer (May 2015). Dobson is a work in progress until termination.

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