Gardener at Heart - Book Two

In Will’s Garden

Not that it’s what he would have planted,

Nor even that he would have liked it here,

But just that I keep getting reminded of him

By so many things:

The bean seeds with their substantial doublets

And their little codpieces;

The twin pea pods hanging from the same node,

Indistinguishable brother and sister;

The heavy-headed sunflowers

Contemplating the tragic earth;

The mischievous chickweed

Transforming the garden overnight;

The stakes topped with upside-down seed packets

Like so many sucket forks lifting so many morsels;

The thatched O in the unpruned grapes

Where the robin broods;

The faded parchment leaf on the path

Under my cross-gartered high-tops;

The heap of greenery masking the pitchfork’s burnished spears

As I march toward the compost pile;

The hollow ball of white string unrolling as it is passed up and down

In a fine frenzy to string the trellis;

The seven stages of the well-grown tomato

From eager seed to fall-felled tangle;

The heavy glove abruptly thrown down

For the sake of the poppy’s flocked heart;

The midnight gopher underneath it all

Intent on revenge;

The flowers so sweetly mothering

Whatever tiny creature comes;

The grasshoppers with their enthusiastic wings

Applauding all entrances and exits...

I can see Will now, sitting on an upturned bucket

Next to the faucet, scribbling like crazy.

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