Toe positioned in westward stance
Heel toward the eastern trench
A lone rubber boot, upturned on staff, presides
in centre field. A quiet commandant
rallying the troops.
All flanks armoured with bits of fencing,
metal, plastic and noisemaking:
a cadre of rusty cans, an infantry of laundry bottles,
an ambush-ready bedspring
in its deep grass position.
Scraps of onion bags, shredded tarps, a regal blue overall
arms and legs stuffed and tied with a pink silk scarf,
a cracked orange bucket and, past kitchen duty but with three good legs left for battle,
a wooden kitchen chair.
All enrolled for nocturnal combat.
In Roy’s garden Major Boot,
with a commanding view up the valley,
enlists this band of the crooked, the lost, the rejected
in the twilight war of
vegetables versus ungulates.