Yes, it was seasonal work all right,
going through late summer until May
on a rolling farm nursery out of town.
Yes, you needed thick leather gloves for the thorns,
when you dragged the plants out of the ploughed earth,
slowly moving up and down row after row.
I assure you that heaving the plant bundles
onto the truck deck was heavy going,
although it did develop my upper body strength.
I soon noticed the subtle color shades
of the the roses in the nursery, liking yellow,
but any colours appeal to me: red, white, or pink.
'Which part of the day was best do you think? '
'I liked it late in the afternoon when
Mount Ruapehu glowed a soft pink.'
-December,2014.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
colour infuses nature, the bright colours stand out, among multiple shades of green or brown, loved the finish in the pink :)