Poem: The Drying of Herbs

The Cutting of Herbs

The herbs were cut just yesterday.
Their rich green stalks clipped
and laid in the rough weaved basket.

Even now, just a day from their cutting
they have begun to wither.
The leaves grow dull.

It will take a week or two
for the sun to do its work,
and each day, they will look worse

until, crisp as cornflakes,, they are done.
ready to crumble into jars
and become what they were meant to be.

About this poem

Happens in people’s lives sometimes too.


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