She’s been a gardener for years
but more and more she brings
flowers inside to arrange a
new garden on her mantel.
She’s in transition, she says,
but remembers summer fondly
in the autumn of her life
and sees winter coming so
she gardens on the mantel now.
There, winter’s not a problem.
Her arrangement, she explains,
has a dahlia, last flower of summer,
bold above hydrangea leaves
burning red in the midst of fall.
The mugo pine warns of winter.
The pine she’s had for 20 years,
remembers planting it and hopes
she’s an evergreen as well.
Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis Missouri. Some of his work can be found
Thanks for this poem, Donal. It's so tender and caring. Love your work.
ReplyDeleteMary Jo, thanks for commenting on my work. We seem to turn up on many of the same sites and I have been reading you for some time. At times I wish I had the outlook you have but sometimes I take a dip in the dumps. I'm lucky I married a gardener. I don't think I ever met a curmudgeon who is a gardener. They all see to be such nice, patient people. All the best.
ReplyDeleteThis is beautifully written. I enjoyed it tremendously. Thank you.
ReplyDelete