The Patio We Turned Into a Garden

Ellie Wilkie


It backed up against

the house

asking for support

vines clinging to

that which was tended

and known

the man told us where

to find a hose

green rubber snaking

through broken stones

and that was the beginning

of the beginning I suppose.

I gave up on standing

and gave way to the earth

You bent at the knees

and pulled at the dirt

sunlight dancing

on the bricks we washed

bathed us both so bright

you had to squint

while we talked

a friendship grew as

we upended weeds

from the earth

paying penance

for our judgments

a lineage school

would rebirth

but here,

for whatever meager

measure it’s worth,

we’ll pretend the forbidden

fruit isn’t cursed. 

Ellie Wilkie is a writer studying English and political science at The University of Virginia. Her poetry and prose has been published in Winged Nation, The Karaux, and The Blue Review. She has written scripts for TOB Comedy Troupe and Voices of Now, Arena Stage Mead Ensemble. She enjoys satire, snark, allegory, and work that is written to be shared aloud.