Tuesday, September 27, 2011

The Compost Pile

A hidden lap of earth
Behind the garden blind
Where fallen leaves and even
Kitchen scraps combine

What time transfigures with
A fungus, worm and spade
Into a hill of humic
Soil in earthy shade

And here a hideaway
That no one seems to see
Anticipating need

Of little miracles
That take from wasted things
And give them to a seed

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