By Jo Ann Herbert These fragrant historic roses have not opened yet this season. My garden’s past beauty has suffered damage as the poem references, but as all of us age and life unfolds, I hope we remember what of beauty and joy we have expressed created and shared in this life. I just went…
By Jo Ann Herbert I live under giant sequoiaswith deer grazing by moonlight I watch thoughts rush tangleand lead me to anger and despair. I count warm memoriesI see wrongs the world over I cuddle animal sweetnessthat calms the bitter themes I live under giant sequoias.
By Jo Ann Herbert If all of us died the earth would heal itself. Calling a plant a “weed” is like calling a human a racial slur. Every plant has a name and a purpose on earth. Are we to pull out all these plants we call “invasives?” We need more information about each. That…