The Rescue of Dryopteris


“The Rescue of Dryopteris”

An afterthought, I took
broken pot
and held her. Barely does she sigh.

Partially dead, I shook
what was not
held deeply in her branches dry.

“Still a trace of life’s green”
she whispered,
faintly audible to my ears.

Water-misted her clean;
tear drops heard
as she began to shed her fears.

Dryopteris, she screams
and she sings!
Her leaves are reaching for the sky.

And then my garden beams
returns that love back to her eyes.

Tri-fall Poem- abc,abc- 638/638

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Hannah Spuler

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