GARDENER'S FAREWELL

Soon, because we plan to move,
this space I must relinquish,
my vain attempt at Eden on woods edge.
Cohosh (blue and black), spice bush,
native columbine, redbud,
this pleasing (at least to me) combination
of plants I knelt to plant
and those that I did not
will be yielded to another's stewardship.

Will he (or she) take joy
in noting that the trillium has spread
its way into the patch of woodruff
over there? Will she (or he) make daily
kneeling stoop in March to spot the first
emergence of mertensia virginica?

Likely not. The benefit of it was mine.
If it carries onto others well
and good. If not, the memory
of it will bless me on my way.

PERSONAL QUESTION

It has become a joke,
a parody of the touchy-feely,
New Agey kind of question
a prospective employee might be
asked at a job interview:
"What animal best describes who you are?"

What I want to know is why
they never ask interviewees
to name a plant.

Think of the possibilities for interpretation
if you said, for example:

a rose
a redwood tree
a Venus flytrap
a potato

TRILLIUM GRANDIFLORUM

"The plants arise from underground rootstalks
that were gathered and chewed by Indians
for a variety of medicinal purposes."
(The Audubon Society Field Guide
to North American Wildflowers)

And over here at the base
of this hickory tree is where,
to my surprise and giddy delight,
I discovered it. We'd moved in
the previous June so it wasn't
until April that I saw the green
shoot and then, a week later,
a pure white blossom the size
of a baby's hand. That was,
let me count, yes, eleven years ago.

Now look. How many blossoms
do you see?  Six? Yes.
Aren't they magnificent? In another
two weeks they'll start to turn
pink. Oh, I know most people
wonder why I go on and on
about these wildflowers.

Some of you kids are probably
rolling your eyes. Maybe you have
to get to be my age to appreciate
the wonder of it. And yes,
I do go on and on. They say the Indians
used to chew the roots for toothaches.

Over here now, see that purple
flower? It's delphinium tricorne,
spring larkspur. The petals are . . .

MISUNDERSTANDING

We'll remember this she said.
He wondered why and asked.

She smiled and pushed her hair
over her ear, that unconscious gesture

which for some crazy reason had
squeezed his heart the first time he saw

her do it years before. They walked, silent.
The trail through the woods opened

to the view they both enjoyed,
a panorama of the valley below

where a row of sycamores
stood guard over the creek

that snaked across the valley floor.
They stopped there as they so often did.

Why he asked again. When she turned
her face to his, her tears surprised him.

But I thought you were happy
he wanted to say and almost did.

APRIL RAINS

They arrive on schedule

Yes, the ground is soggy
Yes, there's water in the basement
Yes, the ball game was called off

So what?


It's April


At last

April!