The Aralia
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The Aralia

 Lester Melton
 Lester Melton
The Aralia
by Lester Melton  FollowFollow
When I retired, I told everyone that I wanted to drink wine, smoke pot and listen to the blues...but I found myself too old and feeble to more anything other than listen to blues. So I became literary to guard against eventual senility. I self published "30 Poems" and "Winter Haiku, Letters and Essays" on Amazon's create space. Both publications need editing,proofing and rewrites and I have moved on.
More work by Lester Melton:
The Aralia
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Work day sweat, aggravation
and at last exultation
when you planted me here by this fence
in the corner shade to be your green marker 
bedded in shelter where for a decade I spread myself 
over the buried survey stone and waited 
to grow a pistil and you become a bee.

Yellow leaves drifted down my stalk, 
frolicked in dirt to wither and compost.

When I stretched my topmost fans above the dog ears 
I opened myself alive to heat, sun and moon.

Through thick broad blades I see summer,
the time I dry crisp and brown, and in that season
I am aralia and must hide because I am not fir, 
or birch or even red bud, because I know 
small life grows at my feet 
in the damp dark earth beneath me.


  6 months ago
really like this, something primordial going on

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