November, Golan Heights

We moved the spiderwort
indoors, to a sunny window. 


Hard frost last night; today 
we uproot and throw away 
all the other alien plants,
overseen through summer 
by a coterie of dreamers —


marigolds and sweet potato, 
lobelia, mums and fuchsia, 
coleus, and Swedish ivy.
Turn the earth for April,
scrub the grubby tools —


out of animus, or onus.... 
Now we mark the naked trees
awaiting the numb comfort
of unforgiving snow 
falling heavy at their roots.

© E. Russell Smith