Dried Herbs

By on Sep 12, 2011 in Poetry

Dried Herbs graphic

she catches the moment of herbs
moon-high or tide-low

picks their fragrancies
leaves them drying in the dark

before they can blossom
into streams of sunlit dust
their patterns of wait
droop    wither   crumble

retaining through dormancy
echoes of last year’s flower


Passion Contents


Joanna M. Weston is married and has two cats, multiple spiders, a herd of deer, and two derelict hen-houses. Her middle reader, Frame and The McGuire, was published by Tradewind Books; and her poetry book, A Summer Father, was published by Frontenac House of Calgary. Her eBooks are available at her blog: http://www.1960willowtree.wordpress.com/