Hard Frost

garden poem, perserverence,

Hard Frost

It’s there, right past the impulse to give up.

It turns apples, small, pocked with holes

into pie and cobbler

breathing spice through the kitchen.

Gathers butternut squash, turnips and beets

using the worst first,

putting the best by.

Picks frost-bitten broccoli plants

as edible bouquets for the cows

to pluck away dark leaves with soft lips before

crunching on the stems, savoring each mouthful.

Salvages the green tomatoes to make fiery curries.

Finds uses for whey left after cheesemaking,

the last bit of honeycomb, the shriveled peppers.

It lies within

the poor harvest, the wilt,

the bad spots, the lean times.

I won’t give up

on you either.

Laura Grace Weldon

first published in The Dirty Napkin

About Laura Grace Weldon

Laura Grace Weldon is the author of four books and served as 2019 Ohio Poet of the Year. She's the editor of Braided Way: Faces & Voices of Spiritual Practice. She works as a book editor, teaches writing workshops, and maxes out her library card each week.
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