Seeds from My Garden

Back for a holiday, I visit My home, that old cottage, Conduct the new tenant over the grounds, Say, “Here are the onions, back From last year, I planted these. A little ground fire in spring Will weed through the blackberries, In summer they’ll go to eight feet. The sod here is cleared, for last summer I took shovel, planted peas, lettuce, Carrot, red radish. The sour kind Of clover grows here on the lawn, Boon to salads. Wild flowers, Good for a week in the house.”

(By the wall, a garrulous stalk, Alien seed pods clumped in the sun, Six feet of rhubarb — even the kids Keep away.)

The tenant has gone, they tell me He ate no onions, left The berries for birds; He was the grocer’s kind, no use for gardens. They covered the lot with deep gravel, For cars.