Tiffany’s Garden. ~ Jane Henderling {Poem}

Via Jane Henderling
on Oct 28, 2013
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garden chair

Tiffany’s Garden

Beer on ice and barefoot

We sit and sip the green tea cups

and watch my bare bottomed son

chase the chickens.

You gently toe them

when they peck at you,

then stroke their backs as they move on.

We pick a dinner plate dahlia

and you preen the garden

as if the vines and leaves and lushessness of late august

were part of your own plumage.

We observe the newly cleared patio,

the broken picnic table,

jars and bowls and vessels

collecting murky water in the yard.

There seems to be no container to hold the life here.

It overflows like our words,

tumbling out in a hurry to be heard

and finally understood.


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Ed: Sara Crolick


About Jane Henderling

Jane is a yoga instructor, writer, and hard working mama to a little boy. In past lives she was a magical flying unicorn, a great blue whale, and a pebble on the beach. She believes we are all inherently good, and knows that she often comes off as overly optimistic and naive. She wants it to be known that she has thought things through thoroughly, and she is still optimistic. She has a fridge full of beer,  a freezer full of ice cream, and loves both with such enthusiasm that her son calls them both “mama”. It embarrasses her in the grocery store (but not enough to deter her from getting more).


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