green sheen

A Poem

By Roux Wessels

and in the spring – when green
and the absence of shivering nights
becomes growth’s measure of
water –
i relax after every millimetre of rain
thankfulness my only oblivious mantra
throughout the seasons until a next
winter –
but long before the cold returns or
frost creates a garden of dead chlorophyll
making earth so visually monotonous
soil –
and rocks growing like plants
growing from air and dust
growing i know but not lively