the tender gardener

In gardening, poetry on September 11, 2010 at 12:49 pm

The gardener charms the flowers.

He sways his fleshy face, flapping his jowls.

“Again!” They beg, bending over themselves.

“First show me your best pose.”

Instantly they stand in unison, bright.

“Perfect little things.” He sighs.

This is the tender gardener. The one he wishes he could be always.

Impossible, of course, with shovel and shears and chemicals.

But in this patch of sun, on his knees, he is thankful.

“You!” they cry, “Now you!”


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