Of Existence, Purpose and Reflection

Lost People

Sincere perhaps but lost I'd say.
A ship adrift in a distant bay.
My body walks a wandering mind.
To search for things, to hope, to find.
Of peace, of beauty, a matching soul.
To walk with me, a midnight stroll.

Copyright December 2012
Gary Pilarchik


Sedentary

It is emptying now.

Aged framed beds
and rusting wire cages sit.

Onions and garlic struggle,
while others fade into the soil.

Once green vines now cling,
as sporadic broken dried pieces.

Half empty scattered bags,
loosely folded  - wait for spring?

Rusting tools huddle,
in the cold shady corner.

Old torn plastic flaps
and brown leaves seek to settle.

Even gardens mistakenly sleep,
when it is thought there is little to do.

Gary Pilarchik
Copyright December 2012


Directions to the Rain Barrel

You might drink...

From the aged gray - black iron ringed rain barrel,
To quench your thirst from an early morning walk.

The one filled with a cool night's country rain.

It collects by the corner of the old cottage house,
By the climbing rose and creeping red dianthus.

Follow the moss and stone covered path,
Just past the clusters of mint and lemon balm.

The rain barrel stands with the daffodils and irises.

A cast iron ladle sits on the fence post.
Plunge it through the floating yellow rose petals.

And watch your feet! - the barrel is full from the night.

Copyright January 2012, Revised
Gary Pilarchik

 
A Worn Shovel

Of old and new
Against modern colors
I’ll take the taint of black
Edges so dull
Rusted blades
Carvings in solid stone

Breath of sunlight
In sightless shades
I’ll take mine pure and deep
Choking weeds
Unturned ground
Growing slowly tangled

Of showers and storms
Drowning with benevolence
I’ll take the purest fall
Soaking earth
Swelling seeds
A purpose to be enjoyed 

Copyright September 2006 

Gary Pilarchik


Complicated Gardening

Bring back
the simple summer day
Remove the sun
that burns my skin
And the air
that takes my breath

Return my
childhood worries,
the fallen rope swing,
afternoon rain,
and the doorbell
that went unanswered

Copyright August 1998 
Gary Pilarchik

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