Lettuce leaves are burning off

In the spring fired breezes

I revive them in the evening


Hosing them with water

I think on that last hotel

Curled up into tall apartment blocks

Hiding in the shadows on a dark rainy night

Me hopeless at giving a false name

With a car full of kids

Like they’d know me so far from home

Even though they don’t

They do

And hand me the keys

It’s a stain that follows…


In my head I dare to dream

This is the last hotel

And tomorrow will be


Just me

Sitting in the driver’s seat


For two years

I once had the privilege

The stain washed away

In water I revived…

It’s strange what you think about in the garden and…

I wonder how I’ll keep this lettuce alive

It’s only the beginning of spring

And summer…well… the heat is on the way



For Writer’s fourth Wednesday Literary Allusion  

I used Jack Kerouac’s The Last Hotel for the inspiration for this poem. I thought this one was also suitable for dverse meeting the bar prompt!


13 thoughts on “Gardening

  1. This is so good, a perfect allusion toe “The Last Hotel.” I think the beginning and the end of the poem, the details about the garden, was just perfect. I dream of being down under right now on this blustery autumn day in Northern NV that seems more like winter than spring. Enjoy your seasons!

  2. Bravo! I particularly love the image of the last hotel curled up into apartment blocks – so vivid and so true.

    Thanks for this and for participating in the challenge. Enjoyed much.

  3. You have created a wonderful feeling that evolves within the reader as they continue reading your poem. I cannot express exactly what it is but it has within it, familiarity, comfort, hard, hard work and a sense of what is to come. Very nice.

  4. Oh, I love this! I garden, too, and it’s true that it frees one’s mind to wander. I like that you used Kerouac as your inspiration…so many people either don’t know him yet or forget about him. I also like the way you implied that more trouble was coming (the heat being on the way). Nicely done!

  5. Gardening is a perfect metaphor for the struggle for life, for growth–one wrong move–maybe not even in our control–and everything shrivels up. Great writing!

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