The winter rains are watering the weeds, and they are growing and growing. Each year at this time, I sigh and think about all the weeding I will be doing in February and March and even April. The weeds have always discouraged people, including me.
In my latest soon-to-be-published book of poetry, Growth, I received a poem about the weeds. Since reading this poem, I have started to approach weeds differently. This year, I’m still going to weed the wild grass and the prickly growth, but I’m going to leave the ones that are actually pretty. I now see weeds with new eyes.
Here is the poem that will appear in Growth:
Comments on: "Seeing Weeds Anew" (1)
Yisrael never lets me pick the weeds â he calls them flowers. Only when there is danger of snakes hiding in the tall grass do we (he) tackles them. J
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