In The Dim Garage

By John I. Blair

In the dim garage the hibernating plants
Have sent up flower stalks
As if they know that spring is on the way.

There in the cold and dark
No food or water,
Birds or bees, no me,

Do they dream vegetative dreams
Of sunshine, moonbeams,
Honey-scented breeze?

Day after gloomy day,
Incarcerated on a bench,
Jammed in like deportees,

Any hope they find
Must lie deep within their genes,
Filed there age on age

Against the times when memory
Collapses in despair,
Overwhelmed by endless freeze.

©2012 John I. Blair