I’ve grown quiet here. My mind
has opened to woodsong
and the smell of earth turned
by a trowel.
I enjoy solitude, even when regrets
or the throb of an old lover happen by.
Sometimes I invite them in, make
a ritual of teacups on starched linen,
a silver server for the scones.
We reminisce ’til shadows trace
across the floor, call them away.
Afterwards, I tidy up, wipe away
drops spilled in the pouring. I save
the leftovers though they’re getting stale.
I may crumble them on the porch rail
tomorrow for sparrows
before I garden.
– Sarah Russell
First published in Poetry Breakfast
Sarah Russell Poetry 
Leftovers getting stale…what a haunting image, considering its deeper meaning
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Thanks, Tim. Sometimes I write and then go back to it and think, whoa, didn’t know I really was writing about that!
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You create a very tangible solitude at the end.
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Hope so. Gotta get rid of those crumbs… Thanks for coming by.
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Love this!
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Thanks, Lynn.
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This poem speaks to me so closely of common experience and I realized how living is a shared process all over again.
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What a kind thing to say, Kerry. Yes, I think “gardening” is universal.
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Such an elegant poem… not a word out of place.
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Thanks, Rajani. High praise!
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Awesome
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Thanks so much!
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Beautifully evocative write!💖
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Thanks a lot, Sanaa. (Love the spelling of your name!)
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A very atmospheric poem – I was right there at your tea party. Thanks for the leftovers you sent home with me. Alarie
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You’re welcome. Be sure to scatter the crumbs! Thanks Alarie.
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This poem evokes so much – memories of past lovers, long gone friends. I find your solitude to not be lonely though. I like the scattering of crumbs for the sparrows. They are indeed the best partakers of what you offer in this wonderful poem.
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Thanks a lot, Toni. I’m never alone when I have birds and flowers.
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Neither am I.
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Thank you for bringing this moment alive so that we might enjoy.
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Thanks so much. I clicked on your blog to learn your name, and I see that you’re just starting out. Good luck! I’d love to read your work.
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Oh I do love how you cope with that loneliness… maybe you could say that gardening is nurturing solitude.
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I think it does. Like I said to Toni, I’m never alone if I have birds and flowers.
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I love the idea of “woodsong”. And this is a wonderful piece, Sarah.
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Thanks, Robert. High praise!
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Just lovely evocation – I can hear those sparrows now.
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Thanks a lot, Peter.
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Like Hansel And Gretel, we’ll follow the crumbs to your beautiful cottage
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You’re welcome anytime, Ivor. 🙂
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lovely poem, sarah. keeping that circle of life going in its own quiet way –
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Thanks, Beth. Hadn’t thought of that aspect. Love it!
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Absolutely gorgeous. Every word perfect.
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Thanks so much, Rosemary.
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kaykuala
We reminisce ’til shadows trace
across the floor, call them away.
Sadly good times never last. As long as it is accepted with good faith it makes it more interesting!
Hank
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Gotta have the sad times so we appreciate the good. At least that’s how I look at it, Hank. Thanks for stopping by.
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love the details you included here. 🙂
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Thanks, Rosema. I always have to “be” in the scene, and then the details appear.
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So much appeal in both the photo and the words. (K)
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Thanks. When I found the photo with the flowers and even the tea set out, I grabbed it. Serendipity!
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It’s wonderful when that happens…
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You can never be miserable with a tea set, madeira cake and flowers. Lovely poem.
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Agreed! Thanks so much for stopping by.
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tea (and scones) with the memories of an old lover… Lovely! as is the photo (sigh)
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Thanks, Margaret. I like that combo too! 🙂
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Enjoyed reading this post great efforts
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Thanks so much, Swapnil. And thanks for the “follow.”
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I love how your poem dances through the senses, how it plays with memory, with earth and nostalgia… It’s just lovely, Sarah.
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Thanks so much, Magaly. I love your poetry, so this is high praise.
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WoW!!!
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Thanks, Emeka.
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So beautiful. Thank You.
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Thank you so much, Matti. I just visited your blog and am following it. I’ve lived in Finland, and love your photographs.
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This has beauty and sadness imbued in every single word.Loved reading every verse.
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Thanks so much, Megha. I’m at the stage in life where I’m mulling over what is past, and this poem is one of my favorites for expressing that.
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It’s beautifully written
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