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Rhubarb
by
Larry Schug


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By April, sour red stalks
push elephant-ear leaves
into near-earth atmosphere.
Rhubarb plans ahead,
years, decades even,
lives sustainably on the interest
of sunlight stored under ground,
having folded up its solar collectors
in September,
when the days grow too short
to make sugar.
See how simple is a miracle.

© by Larry Schug.
Used with the author’s permission.

Purchase a framed print of this poem.

 Larry Schug, after a work life of various kinds of manual labor and learning, is retired—a career he says he was born for. Author of six collections of poetry, he lives with his wife, dog, and three cats near a large tamarack bog in St. Wendel Township, Minnesota.

 


New comments are closed for now.
Tyler Gabrysh:
Wonderfully winsome and easily read poem!
Posted 06/08/2012 12:13 PM
loisflmom:
And makes me yearn for the yearly miracle in my father's garden. Yum!!
Posted 06/08/2012 09:43 AM
Marilyn L Taylor:
I like this a great deal. It's engaging, doesn't have a single wasted syllable, and makes its point very gracefully.
Posted 06/08/2012 08:32 AM


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