Search Website
Close Search Pane
Toggle Menu


By Angelene Karas


The parsley thrives in abundance.
A true treasure found in small patch of green
Blooming in the ghetto of suburbia.
She remains permanently locked in a blissful
childhood memory when an ancient grandfather
with crinkled eyes full of wisdom
would carefully pluck parsley from the earth
so she could devour it.
Just like the ancient grandfather,
the herb is foreign,
originating from his home land – The Mediterranean.
He would do anything to quench her hunger
just so she would never experience poverty
like he did.


This poem is a public submission created for Red Room Poetry's New Shoots digital poetry anthology

Go to New Shoots Public Submissions's profile to read more poems