Red hat
flops,
broad grin,
kind brown eyes
old dress frayed, faded
under the summer sun
hoe in hand
dirt flies
grass withers
beneath sharp edges.
Tomatoes, beans
peas and carrots
tended with withered,
wrinkled hands
proudly display their
sprouts, flowers
as if for her praise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A delightful piece. It took me to an old English garden. Don't tell me that's where she was, that would be too bizarre even for me! Esra Sloblock