Excerpt from

The Dead Send Their Gardener

He arrives in the courtyard with two cartons
of juice, each of which he’ll tip and drain
at one go in the heat, and a sack of food
for the roses. He looms over his tools,
blond and dusty as a stalk of ripe wheat,
surely someone’s prized lover. Centuries
bask among his hybrid teas, and he shakes
his capable handfuls of food into their beds...



Leslie Adrienne Miller at the Poetry Foundation
A profile from the Nebraska Center for Writers
Leslie Adrienne Miller's home page