Junta — A Poem about a Gardner’s War Against Weeds

Near garden’s front edge

where grass was long ago

tilled under is a wilderness

without vegetable or lush lawn

here militant insurgents stage

their coup against gardeners

purposefully plotting

tendrils of green advance

over into grass’ front-lines

while simply occupying

the bare unfortified

tracts of naked garden

space without opposition.

Creeping Charlie digs in

and shouts triumphantly

Viva la Weed!

2 thoughts on “Junta — A Poem about a Gardner’s War Against Weeds

  1. I battled them for years….and nothing but some of the nastiest chemicals really early in the year worked…then I just decided…”Hey, they’re green…to hell with it…” Hahahah

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