A Kind of Garden
At the end, think of a windentering a kindof garden. Opened, windenters a garden—what else couldwhatever what wallencircles be called—listen to it ending, the draftwithin earreach within.Then consider the exterior.Greened stone parts alreadyuncertain field. But thereis wall before. What I wascircling first, outer scarpI had been returning from, anotherpart of unlevel field along defile assumed, revealedas steep-sided ditch nowrendered abandoned by newwall, something some strayingthing might look to hutchup down in. Yes, whatwent on was like that.Foregrounded before. Fora stint, charted. What Iwalked up and, insidewhich, above which, walked.This wasn’t how I said I would,at the end, go on. This iswhat lure is, isn’t it, revisitinga shut perimeter. The gatesthat can open not opening.
“A Kind of Garden” first appeared in Bat City Review.
Copyright © 2023 by Nica Giromini.
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by Poetry Daily with permission.
Founded in 2004, Bat City Review is a literary journal and community devoted to supporting emerging and established writers and artists. Dedicated to diversity of form, thought, and voice we publish poetry, fiction, nonfiction, and visual art crafted with passion and precision—work that expands our imaginations and complicates our conversations; work willing to take risks, surprise, experiment, and play. Collaboratively edited by MFA candidates from the New Writers Project, Michener Center for Writers, and Studio Art; Bat City Review is generously supported by the University of Texas at Austin’s English Department and James A. Michener Center for Writers.