PULLING WEEDS FROM THE CRACKS IN MY BRICK SIDEWALK In early April, after a hard rain, I spent an entire afternoon pulling weeds from the cracks in my brick sidewalk. I have my doubts about how useful this will be since the weeds, like my deep-rooted sins, always return. I have tried everything, even toxic weed killers, without success. It might be months, but the weeds always return, mocking my foolish effort. I use a trimmer to hold them at bay, but modern technology can only do so much. Since it is spring and a time for a new start, I ask for the strength to make an exchange: My weak faith will gain the weeds' strong persistence while my steadfast sins will gain my many doubts.
Harold Whisman is a retired English and journalism teacher for Norfolk Public Schools in Virginia. In his “golden years” he helps babysit his grandchildren for their working parents and writes poetry. He finds both jobs often frustrating but also very rewarding. His poems have been published in Ancient Paths and Better than Starbucks literary magazines.
Amethyst Review 