This poem is taken from PN Review 122, Volume 24 Number 6, July - August 1998.
AsparagusIt was worth it just for the picking,
the clean sharp snap from the root.
No breeze, no sound, except the hum of cicadas
growing to a crescendo at the edge of the field.
By July I knew the first short stalks would soon appear;
it thrived in the August heat.
Someone before me had taken the trouble
to plant those neat rows. I hated to see it go to waste;
...
The page you have requested is restricted to subscribers only. Please enter your username and password and click on 'Continue'.
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are not a subscriber and would like to enjoy the 282 issues containing over 11,400 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are not a subscriber and would like to enjoy the 282 issues containing over 11,400 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?
