Plant Peas

Plant Peas

I have a friend named Ann
who likes to plant peas

She lives in a world of courtrooms
and mental disease
and when she goes home
she likes to plant peas

Maybe it’s the feel of the soil
and how it responds to her touch
it could be the smell of the earth
that she craves so much

Maybe it’s the sight of the field
with everything in bloom
or the sweetness of their taste
as they melt in her mouth
it could be the sound of the wind
as it blows through the trees

Ann has many reasons
she likes to plant peas


– Carl Josehart, 1988


by Carl Josehart

A clay bowl
fired by the intensity of her gaze
filled with the abundance of her caring

A handkerchief
stained from tears shed during many difficult goodbyes

A paperweight
black as night with filigree of silver and gold
given to me for no reason at all

Brass candlesticks
wax cleaving to their sides
leftovers from quiet eves
dinner with friends
romantic nights

A picture
of parents that were mine
could have been mine
should have been mine
on the mantle

Pieces of my past
testimonies to my life
gingerly packed and moved
where I go
set down like roots
nourish me
and tell me
I’m home

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