Organic Garden


The garden
Which was his
Lies unplanted now
In Spring

His garden
Untouched by poisons
All those years
Lies unseeded now
Growing weeds

The lettuce
We ate
New and tender
Is just a memory now
Like tomatoes too ripe from the sun

I unroll black plastic
In long somber sheets
To cover weeds
Hide the dark, fertile soil

The garden
Which was his
Is a large black square
Fenced off
And set back
In a corner
I no longer visit