Poem 20: Found Poem and My Own Words

A stray deer, a bulb, a briar,
a blunder, the unemployed
my ancestor occupied;

now we're talking.
When walking home just now
I saw an old woman cutting
carnations, a simple weight
attached at the bonfire
of her irregular rattle,
and thought of you.

I said once, if I love you,
we'll fight, and I meant it.

This morning began with a flood.
While my body was heavy with the weight
of the unwanted gift, you
were in the garden, said,
a weed is anything
in the wrong place.
I'm worried but I'll wait it out.

mgb 11042010

Here I took 3 sources (not sure what they were) and took some words, some lines and rearranged them to make my own poem. There are a few of my own things here too but it feels like mine anyway.