The Old Tailor in the Winter Garden

the old tailor in the winter garden (a draft)


gardens she says
in winter there
is so very
much for
us to do
he tries
on the suit
shoulders too big
sleeves too long
vest missing
a button
who is
the scarecrow
that empty thing
frightening crows
what is excess feed
to ghosts to the crows
let go of what does not fit
weep for seeds that did not take
another freeze this weekend
the rain will wash some
of what is dead
from the air
gardens
how the rows
draw us into the earth
folds of a flesh
we cannot
hold close
enough;

the tailor of gardens


Richard Lance Williams

Posted over on More Poetry