Life Is Still Life

By Myrna Moore

Sweeping past Queen Elizabeth Roses
The Weeping Willow
And there it stands
Garden ends.

Standing still
Little house
The shed

Climbing roses
Clambering around the windows
Inviting entry

Serried shelves
Neatly arranged
Kaleidoscopic pots of paint

Flanked by garden detritus
Spades, shovels, scythes
Stand to attention

Shuffled seed packets frame the table
Where newspaper sprawls

But it is the chair
So comfortable
And in sweet repose
My Father asleep
A morning’s work complete

Here the eye rests
Here the sense of a moment in time
Holds everything in place

Life is still life

Myrna Moore 2023

Back to the National Poetry Day Refuge collection