A Familiar Garden View

When I was a teen my mother had a garden
With hibiscus planted all along our drive,
And Confederate rose and wandering Jew
too.
My favorite exercise was mowing in my white
Miss America bathing suit with my hair pulled in a
pony tail and tennis shoes.
So every home I’ve ever owned,
from mobile home
to five o’er four
I’ve had a garden of some type.
Now, these final twenty years, my views are garden views.
In so many ways, I’m still that golden girl;
Some intrinsic things cannot be let go.
I’m waiting for the drop of this daily heat
To walk in grass the deepest, deepest Irish green.
In this place of conspicuous performers
Verbena tendrils race in tangled mass.
Over-wintered, running almost from control,
Verbena such a tidy bloom,
Belies your tangled under view,
Along the edge of old concrete.
Backlit by the sunset filtered through the trees
Sonal, tepid air, a point where two sprays arc and meet
And at their juncture, there the droplets turn to steam.
Contrast sharply drawn in hues of gold and green and palest blue,
Blue the color of my childhood room.
I stick to simple things to grow and gratify.
Over years I’ve learned my limitations well.
My past from Alabam, to VA, to Florida, NC, now back to Florida where
The soil’s deficient in every thing but sand.
But at this time in my life sand’s best for me.
So my simple garden ministrations
To provide my sultry, sonal, steamy view
Are things that may be grown in sand
And don’t preclude this weakened hand.
As I look at all that must be done on my tiny homestead
The microcosm of this garden,
Each connecting area of sight,
Reminds me of childhood romps in water sprayed,
Just like today,
And verbena Mother grew in Ocean View.
Canna lillies, impatiens, coleus, and herbs, numerous
Conjure other places, times,
Watching birds and flowers grow, especially familiars.
I putter on, pulling weeds, and taking cuttings, and wondering when
that long-limbed girl will reappear to mow.
No wonder crones like me love their gardens so!

















Sonal, tepid air, an arc where two sprays meet
And at their juncture, the droplets turn to steam