Medusa.(Poem)

 
MEDUSA 
 
   "That one's a weed," she said. "Please dig it out." 
   It looked more like a tree, rising to the height 
   of the eaves. With spade and secateurs and garden 
   saw, I set to work, while the sun's burning light 
   ignited the leaves. Despite the recent drought 
   dense foliage and vines had grown over the site 
   where I began to dig, removing an overburden 
   of soil; but there was more than soil packed tight 
 
   around the roots of the tree, for the shovel's blade 
   rebounded off sandstone slabs someone had buried 
   years ago, along with fragments of roof-tile 
   and terracotta pots. At first I was worried 
   that I might split the handle of the spade 
   against these obstructions, but, using unhurried 
   angled strokes, I dislodged them after a while 
   and placed them to one side. I looked down. ...