The midnight gardener
Roams alone
Through the rustic wonder of night
The moon shines down as the world
Goes to sleep
Illuminating the world in soft grays
And muted colors
With rake shovel and hoe
Instruments of death
Weeds falling to the slaughter
Hiding behind shadows to escape
Solace surrounds me as I bring life
To this world
Create color out of brown mud
Sound fills the air,
An owl or a coyote in the distance
A cricket’s chirp, a friendly sigh in a welcoming ear.
I am a midnight gardener.
Jessica Miller Spring 2007
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