A speaker walks us through a garden as if giving a tour, naming the flowers one by one in a relaxed, conversational voice. The bluebells, the daisies and the peonies are described with small, homely details: fairies ringing the bluebells at night, daisies that "come up volunteer," peonies that "stay put." The peonies lead into a family story. Gram planted them after the speaker's mother married, wanting her to have something pretty. From there the poem drifts toward time and loss, with the thought that the flowers will likely outlast the speaker.
The mood is gentle and quietly eerie. The black hollyhocks no one planted keep returning no matter how often they're dug up, and the speaker believes this is Gram trying to say something. The final line, "I can't make out what," leaves a note of longing. The speaker seems to miss Gram and wants to hear her, but the message never quite becomes clear.