Remembering My Garden
One year I planted lilies;
they grew for several years,
then disappeared. There is nothing
like the scent of lilies
floating in August’s hot air,
filling a morning bedroom
with something from heaven:
their sweet delectation.
I grew foxgloves in pink, yellow;
they too vanished for no reason.
I tried my hand at purple coneflower
but it never prospered.
The plants that grew well
were invasives, not natives.
Called “exotics,” they were often
quite ordinary—daylilies, euphorbia.
All in all, I never felt in control.
Gardening is hard work; I wasn't
strong enough, nor did I ever
have the time. Everything in life
has its price: either time or money.
Some things never give back,
but my garden did.