I love poems that grow
out of themselves
out of nowhere really
like an empty window-box
you’ve cleared, but haven’t
any plans for and one day
some seed from
some bird and
some meal
somewhere
settles in and look
yellow courgette flowers
sprawling delicately
all over the garden path
poems that grow from
a random glance
like someone gives you
a useless present and
it asks to be told its story
poems that grow from that
patch of waiting soil
in the heart saying
there’s always something
to surprise, to please when
there’s earth and water
there,
and warmth.
Michael Shepherd
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/where-poems-grow/
