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| grassroots there’s a revolution afoot in the garden. the chickens are scratching up resentment, the beans have surrendered. it’s become an all-out struggle, with worms, beetles rambling in shiny coats stolen from the night’s shimmer. at first it’s quiet, as though you could imagine them fomenting quietly, muttering against damp grass by moonlight, passing secret messages in the scuttering of dry day. but the trees get wind of it, bushes rustle, and suddenly the grasses know all, tell all until the whole garden has rebellion on its leaftips, insurgency in every seed. it will go on like this despite the gardener, despite the scythe, despite white flags waving from the laundry line. Alisa Gordaneer (c) Alisa Gordaneer, 2006 |