Groundskeeping

                                                                                                                                                from 5-29-86

 

 

When I moved in

I didn’t see

the border of bleeding hearts

encircling the yard

rosy chambers leaking

bloodless drops of white

 

I lost her wild

asparagus. I admit

to letting him remove

the horseradish

though it would have

pleased my daddy

And the rhubarb fades

turns woody before I

notice

But overall

 

I respect her plantings

dutifully crush lemon verbena

and bring my fingers to my nose

spice salads

with bitter borage

cherish the flowering garlic chives

harvest an overgrowth

of raspberries

at the property line

 

My carrots, radishes

and vining cucumbers

flourish in the bed

she made

Lake iris clump outside

the corner of my kitchen

come singly to stand

over quiet dinners

 

My neighbor’s granddaughter

leaned over the fence

outlined

in three varieties of mint

to tell me

everyone said she was crazy

This too I respect

 

Now I think of going

and I plant

forget-me-nots