In the yard, the horde of wild garlic heads have begun to rise from their private ruminations and aim their long beaks together at the sky.
11 Comments
Comments are closed.
Previous Post: Previous Post
Next Post: Next Post
In the yard, the horde of wild garlic heads have begun to rise from their private ruminations and aim their long beaks together at the sky.
Comments are closed.
Permalink
Love the image here, it made me smile to picture it.
Permalink
Hordes of ruminating plants, is there a sci fi story in there somewhere?
Permalink
Could be! They do look eldritch. Every one of them points in a different direction until they straighten up.
Permalink
Thanks, Libby.
Permalink
wonderful imagery!
Permalink
Thanks!
Permalink
Oh yes, this is particularly glorious.
I had to look it up, of course. Is it Allium tricoccum? A plant of much cultural and mythical interest. Ramp. Presumably no connection at all, other than rhyme, with champ.
Permalink
No, ‘fraid not. Just ordinary top-heading garlic which have escaped the garden and seeded themselves all over the yard. Ramps do grow around here, but not on this mountain.
Permalink
GROWING
Abuela would have joined them in raising
beak-like stalks toward the sky, in praise
of an apothecary rooted among the bramble.
“In garlic we trust,” she would intone while
wrapping crushed garlic moistened by spittle
on our aching little fingers, our battle scars.
Like wild garlic heads rising from untilled
gardens, we raced to grow beyond littleness,
beyond fearful cowering, and found fingers
to point at the blank sky that would have given
us rain on our demand for clouds to break
into torrents drenching parched soil and bodies
of naked lads and lasses tittering in the rain,
their necklaces of garlic bulbs and parts dangling.
—Albert B. Casuga
07-08-11
Permalink
This poem response was also reposted in:
http://albertbcasuga.blogspot.com/2011/07/growing.html
Permalink