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.


copyright © 2015 Jane Gibson || all rights reserved
code & design by Byron S. Gibson
best viewed in modern non-Microsoft browsers