After the Work is Done
Wood-warm tools muddied,
scraped and set aside,
a pleasant ache lingers in my joints.
I lounge on my shed’s tilted porch,
waiting for the first flickers of life.
Sun on my belly
slick as a rain-battered tulip.
I am scrapes, nettle stings,
fingers cracking with dirt,
expectant.
Time can drip in measured thoughts
from the water spout,
meander by
like a hibernation-drowsy bee.
A haze of unworried weeds
creeps over the beds.
Gerry Stewart is a poet, creative writing tutor and editor based in Finland. Her poetry collection Post-Holiday Blues was published by Flambard Press, UK. Her writing blog can be found at http://thistlewren.blogspot.