Gardening 411

The tree (fighting the broken window)

angered me to glean out the seeds- planting,

grafting in a straight line (follow her lead)

in the barren earth fixed with slabs of the blue

(clueless) sky.

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As seasons along with reasons past,

I prayed to the everlasting greens of repast.

The seeds shot to mullets- devouring bullets-

all for the absence of fertiliser.

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We all of us like some frosty weather.

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They slowly, gradually, morphed to their

own feet, no longer relying on the tree

to shade them from their necessities. Or

so they said, moaning to the flowers;

roses, lavender, water lilies and the rest- all

of which who frankly couldn't care less.

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But as the sun simmered, they just kept

on curling, twirling their roots with the

cooler Oaks who didn't shade them

but showed them the ropes. Swings.

The Sun, finally, exploded. No sun tan for

the saplings, caused them to shed their bark.

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Honestly, teenagers can be so difficult, especially

when they don't know their own minds, they need a

guide.

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So as I flick through this magazine, I remember- teenager,

child, adult, for now- but, not forever…