The Garden
for umpteen years
Farmer Green
walked the rows
pickin’ out the weeds
so the good would grow
scheduled sprinklers
timed just right
then how the seeds
would sow
and fill the field
to die
and come back
again
that’s how
the wild flower
grew
it shown its face
one morn
to the waking sun
and caught
the farmer’s eye
and by and by
he delighted
in its budding
brilliance
so removed
this floral was
from the perfect patch
he knew
the one
just up the hill
he kept
behind a pristine
picket fence
to keep
the rabid rabbits out
and the red, red roses in
he tried
to do the same
to this foreign flower
for it had become
his heart’s desire
but the fence
he built
could not
withstand
the wind
or the will
of a single
stem
to die
and come back
again
TL