Poetry Spring 2021 Edition Writing

The Gardener

In pale starlight, the Gardener danced
Uneasy steps in foreign trance,
Following absolution’s thread,
Fearing desertion: puppet’s dread.
But on she dances, smiling wide,
While Luna’s pull dictates the tide,
And Sol looks on from today’s edge,
For in the void, all parties pledge
Allegiance to each other’s pull:
A vice-grip on the Gardener’s skull.
She only wishes to be free,
To dance like comets in the sea
Of stars that lie beyond her binds—
She wonders what out there she’d find
If she could break her ties with Sol,
Instead explore places untold.
But to Sol, she’s forever bound,
Constantly dancing ‘round and ‘round
A greedy ball of gas and flame,
Sucking her in to burn again—
Each pass she makes, barely a miss,
Forever stuck in loathsome tryst.
Daily perform her dance she must,
Though Solfire could make her dust,
For in the searing heat of Sol,
She keeps her garden from the cold,
And without Sol, the Gardener fears
A nothingness beyond her years.
So chained to Sol she has to stay,
For as the night melts into day,
Her flowers bloom, her creatures rouse,
Unaware of their Gardener’s vows

-Ethan Kinal, ’21

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