Behind the old shed
With it's weather worn beams
Struggling to stand straight
Brave, against hurled January winds
Are the things she stored
For hints of Spring
A shovel, to dig away her past
A rake, to clear an unobstructed new path
A hose, to water all her dreams
A wheelbarrow, to cart away her sorrow
Pruning sheers, to shape what needs to thrive
Fencing, to keep out predators
Bricks and stones, on which to build
Composted soil, with minerals, rich
Watering can, to catch her tears, recycled
A birdhouse, for welcoming stranger's stay
Garden spikes, for steadying struggling seedlings
Stacked against the slanted side
Tucked into bundles that shout 'Useful'
For now, the sunlight's fingers pry
Into the pile, like a child, at Christmas
Racing to open what they cannot wait to receive
Behind the old shed, familiar tools
Needed and necessary for these unfamiliar days.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem and great imagery with a lot of practical applications to life.