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Rosemary
by
Jeff Burt


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Whether bush or creeper
sprawling over ledge,
rosemary blooms
in baby-blues
as the sun steeps in the cup
of the garden by the edge of the road
and the rustle of robins
beneath and in disturbs
enough that fragrance frees.
I know enough to touch
the leaves, to rub, to raise
my fingers to my nub and breathe.
O the dreams of sauce,
the noodles stirred.


© by Jeff Burt.
Used with the author's permission.

 

 


Jeff Burt lives on the Central Coast of California with his wife. He has worked in electronics and mental health administration. Jeff claims to have learned about never-ending energy from his grandchildren, and about perpetual motion opportunities from his Labrador; he is grateful for both. You can see more of Jeff's work here, and learn more about him at http://www.jeff-burt.com.


Post New Comment:
Anastasia:
Growing rosemary is so rewarding, both in enjoying the growth, and then enjoying what is grown!
Posted 06/03/2022 05:41 PM
Lori Levy:
Love the way this flows and where it takes us.
Posted 06/02/2022 01:28 PM
Surprise Reading Teacher:
Beautiful use of elegantly sparse words. Read slowly with all your senses alert.
Posted 06/02/2022 10:41 AM
Michael:
Really like the way you use alliteration and internal rhyme in this poem; congratulations, Jeff.
Posted 06/02/2022 10:33 AM
Otobong Sampson:
Just wow!
Posted 06/02/2022 10:22 AM
KevinArnold:
All the senses stirred.
Posted 06/02/2022 09:45 AM
Janet Leahy:
What a gift, to have "the rustle of robins disturb" the scent of rosemary. I also touch the leaves of rosemary and lavender each morning to breathe in the glorious fragrance.
Posted 06/02/2022 08:39 AM
Larry Schug:
"sun steeps in the cup of the garden" I can see it in this poem that engages all the senses.
Posted 06/02/2022 07:53 AM


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