Rose Jam
With knees foam-sheathed
she pins the brown soil
unwilling body of earth
until sundown it’s hers
the grandmother, mother, widow
whisperer to the world
beneath her, families
of spiders scurry and ants
dance for the priestess
snipping carmine planets
from their sky that hit the surface exploded
petals crushed between
her sandalled toes
rose jam boiling in the air
she continues her ruthless work
for thankless generations