The Vicar's Grove
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The Vicar's Grove

 Elias Gracson
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 Elias Gracson
The Vicar's Grove
by Elias Gracson  FollowFollow
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Issue 108 · poetry
free verse ·  
The Vicar's Grove
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The orchards of yesterday
With rotten soil, the seeds
Of tomorrow infertile,
Limp wild with impotence.
 
I wiggle my toes in the
Old silt, waiting for
The tradewinds to
Spoil my spirits.
 
I look for fruits and
All I see is the grass,
The dirt, and it is rarely
Ever grounding or firm.
 
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