Wild Garlic (a juxtaposition poem)
the creek runs deep
in the gulley,
sandbagged slopes.
every winter
it breaks its banks.
I’m picking
wild garlic,
tall stalks,
white blossoms.
then a dog
squats
over the best
of it.
Written for Writers’ Digest Poem-a-Day Challenge for April 2026. Prompt word: a juxtaposition poem. Image and poem ©Misky 2006-2026.

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