Ceres

she kept a garden -
a furious garden
of fulminant hue,
like a stalled explosion
whose fire faded
with the season
as though in time-lapse.

her hands in the dirt,
shoved deep into the earth,
fingers wriggling like roots,
blindly in the shifting depth.
it seemed she was
hunting for something,
perhaps something lost
a long time ago.

she stayed out till the
sky turned charcoal,
till the match of the sun
fizzled into the horizon,
the wiry, arboreal shadows
bowing over her,
solemnly.

eventally, bats,
winged jigsaw pieces
toss themselves across
the ashy sky
& mosquitoes clamor tinnily
at her ears.

she sighs
like a parting prayer
& returns indoors,
cheeks smudged
with the tender soil.

she smells of it,
raw,
like something just picked,
wet
& new -