In the afternoon heat
I stood with clippers, sweat
streaming down my neck. I trimmed
the bushes back, cut the dead
heads of roses, eased the burden
of hydrangeas. Had I helped
stave off one more day
in this eventual hurtling
toward ruin? Had I helped
wage a little war here
against chance, exchanged
their lightening for my own?
[LAG-other-response date=”06 12 2013″ url=”https://www.vianegativa.us/2013/06/self-reflection/” title=”Via Negativa: Self-reflection”]