Late Frost
Written by Micah Daniel McCrotty
Posted in Poetry
An uncle set up milk crates
and tobacco sticks, ran long
wires between post and barn
while three aunts draped
painter’s cloths, opened
bedsheets and fabric coverings,
shrouded over sprouted greens
and new shoots from a condition
warned but yet to transpire.
In the failing light breath rose
among their ghost garden,
the three sisters unspooling
muslin across the shorter
peach trees as defense against
the final fears of spring.
