
A garden witch
knows when to weed,
when to deadhead.
Lets some things reseed.
Pulls quackgrass,
curly dock, carpet weed,
crab grass. Makes wishes Continue reading

A garden witch
knows when to weed,
when to deadhead.
Lets some things reseed.
Pulls quackgrass,
curly dock, carpet weed,
crab grass. Makes wishes Continue reading

after Terrance Hayes’s lines:
sing until our blood is jazz,
we swing from June to June
Our skin is too tight. We need to sing,
our spirits folded into cranes, until
we can no longer stop our
words from spilling like blood, Continue reading

Freed,
treed,
high as a bird,
like a rising song,
with a need to climb
ever higher,
a girl can believe,
can succeed,
can belong. Continue reading

Thanks to Jone for her amazing poem and photograph that arrived on a lovely plaque:
summer days
families gather
for sunset Continue reading

Don’t look,
don’t see,
I’ll stay still,
you won’t see me!
Copyright 2017 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes: Here’s a ditty for a summer day in honor of a shy visitor. Do you see the bunny?

Rippled pond,
dew-strung lawn.
Yawning moon
welcomes dawn. Continue reading

Our rosebay rhododendron
is white with pink newness. Continue reading

Thanks to Tabatha Yeatts, who channeled winter and the White Witch in her summer postcard swap. She sent me a poetic mashup of fairy tale, Narnia and politics. Continue reading

yellow yarrow clouds
like bits of solid sunlight
speak of summer Continue reading


Little fish, in the shallows,
where the sun turns
the soil to gold,
your round nest
blooms next to others,
forming a pattern
like dandelions on a lawn. Continue reading