by Pauline Cleary

Shadowy, cloudy day;
sprawling trees mesh together
in a canopy.
I crouch amongst the sprawl
of asparagus fern;
sticky, invasive, conquering.

On my knees,
I slither into the undergrowth,
seizing handfuls of weeds,
ripping them from their hold
on earth and shrubs;
wrenching free the plants,
choking beneath their grasp.

Footsteps on the pavement,
only inches from where I squat,
with my trowel.
Shielded by shrubs,
who would know
that I am here?

Perfectly enclosed
within my secluded arborary.