by Brad Garber

I keep adding to the weeds
next to the window
where they block the sun
that once dried them
and keep my home cool.

Soon the pine drops
milkweeds, cattails, wheat
mullen will shield me
from everything that drained
them making skeletons
beautiful beautiful bones.

From year to year
the wedding urns
in which they reside
collect pollen and dust.

Brad Garber has published poetry in Cream City ReviewAlchemyFireweedUphook PressFrontRange ReviewSundog Lit, and elsewhere. He was nominated for a 2013 Pushcart Prize for his poem, “Where We May Be Found.”