War Garden

Weeding means pulling out plants

that could actually feed someone–

chickweed, dandelions,  plantain, others

that some consider food.

Today I pulled enough to feed an army,

but this garden will not feed armies, or war,

or hatred, killing and domination.

I would pull every plant, throw them on a fire

and watch them burn before I would feed a war

or soldiers.

But wait.

There stands my son in uniform,

a soldier for twenty years or more, a warrior.

My garden sends fruits and vegetables to his table.

My absolute stand is qualified by one

who stands beside me, quiet in his uniform,

unflinching in his duty while I try

to explain myself

and my garden.

Advertisements

About grannysu

storyteller, writer, poet, gardener, countrywoman
This entry was posted in A River of Stones, aros, NaPoWriMo. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to War Garden

  1. Sherrell says:

    What a great poem. Glad to know someone else wrestles with war and family. Thank you

  2. Well expressed, thank you.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s