2011

The calendar sheds its leaves again
Like the kamias tree beside this small house.
Another year has died and another has bloomed,
No one knows what its new fragrance will bring.


As my feet went back to the paths they’ve taken
My hands gathered the fruits and the flowers
The mementos of the stars and the sunshine
The memoirs worth planting on the next garden.


I spewed out what was not worth keeping,
The rough rocks that hurt the soles of my feet,
The weeds that snatched nutrients from me,
And the rest of the rubbish fit for the pit.


But all of these that I took and left
Made this creature what it is today
And in the next plot, for sure I’ll stay
Grateful for all the pain and the gain.


Now it’s all to the Green Thumb of Above
Whatever is in store for the next coming of the sun
And on every rise of the moon after that
I’m sure no rain will drop on useless land.


The new calendar displays itself
Naked from the dried leaves of yesterday
Prepared for more sprouting and blooming
Ready to spread all its fruits and fragrances.


Krizelle R. Talladen
January 2011