The Broken Rose

Alone in the orchard all morning
As a cool mist cleared,
I shoveled and carted gravel,
Glad no one appeared.

Pushing the cart past a locust
Rooted in long repose,
I thought I saw in a flaw of shade
Tomorrow's broken rose.

I stopped at once to catch my breath,
Save my mind from ruin,
I looked above the far-off trees
And saw the daylight moon.

Rest was still a little ways off,
But I headed in early,
Bringing the moon for you to hold
Though my hands were dirty.

by Andrew Saltarelli
appearing in Hawk & Whippoorwill Volume 1, Number 1 , Summer 2008