April 19
NaPoWriMo’s prompt: “…write a paragraph that briefly … describes the scene outside your window…use the words of your paragraph to build a new poem….”

6:37 AM, 19 April 2018

It’s a beautiful day here, today in Le Mont-sur-Lausanne. A perfect day to scarify, if you believe in that sort of thing. My neighbors do. I don’t. I’d never even heard of the word “scarification” until I moved here. And it turned out to be just like it sounds: scary. The idea is to destroy your yard in the spring — right when it’s thriving with primrose, clover, and buttercups and the bees are buzzing to birdsong. Scrape it all up. This is your chance to rake those leaves left last fall. You then stare at dirt while you wait for a wall-to-wall green rug to appear. Rather than rant on and on and on, let me show you a patch of my lawn as it is, right at this very moment. Maybe then I’ll manage a poem.

 Pernessy19April2018My lawn, barely awake. (Yes, the both of us.)


Our house has a yard
with withered leaves —
or so they seem.
They fell last fall,
all the way down,
to Earth’s browning ground.

I can’t believe
it’s the same old thing
every spring
for erstwhile green leaves
of branches that once swayed
and gave last summer’s shade.

Will we never learn?
What might seem withered,
from Elysium slithered
out of the grips of Nymphs.
Such nutritious gifts from far beyond!
Yet on we rake, on and on and on…

Written by Elizabeth Boquet, April 2018

6 thoughts on “Scarification

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