fickle scenes stream to recall hinted grey days and the shovel blade’s scrape, slap into earthy layers beneath crabgrass
i now follow the intermittent shine of spider web twine to a more southern bred aloe, refuting sunbeams in my old woman reality to remember that misty day when
my heart twisted and broken indoors, took to tear at the earth outside your window
monochrome world’s indifference made you wash dishes in the dark as I dug up lawn in the rain
the only color was your hair, willing life by its hopeful amber hues, but your womb would not consent
mine own, finally silent after an onslaught of drugs and surgeries, two children enough {white girl sigh} safely inside watching tv
your desolation left the sink full to turn away from this connection with me, intolerable even through windowed glass, as in solace you grieved, your husband working far away
i remained. busied by clearing sections of sod, back burning, and the whole world’s tear drops of rain for your lost child to dampen my clothes
days ended and began with bared soil, thankful to be covered in layers of mulch, grassy gowns having been torn away, dampened newspapers sphagnum moss mushroom compost cow manure grass clippings and autumn's painted leaves a new decor
you didn't flee from your kitchen window now i didn't glance your way
flea market finds and field rocks bordered the polygon, a quadrilateral, with a happenstance of bricks broken and butting edges to snows’ first crime
the ground froze, i shoveled your walk in morning darkness, we passed each other as neighbors do in silence until spring
pawing at the earth like a centaur, i sunk over one hundred and fifty bulbs
it was meant to be stunning, an antique art nouveau costume jewelry bouquet, but the pieces I dug and placed were pre-adolescent to bloom as gems not yet
beckoning birds with baths and feeders, tea cups and saucers suspended above the tiger lilies’ fan, i built
then I waited waited and watered placed bird seed and it happened it filled your view, you came out to speak with me
I could never remove the loss from your heart, but I could fill your eyes with beauty with the softness of nature with the hope of flowers for new life
the garden grew as did your rounding belly. you carried a child as the seasons changed
red haired, hopeful as mom, she was born and as she grew. i planted a Hogwarts garden for this little one and mine as well, complete with chocolate frogs and contorted hazelnut, warlock twisted finger branches, wilting leaved tree
when we parted, each selling our homes, you told me how you would miss the gardens, the spring blooms, but confided, almost thinking out loud, how you couldn't understand why such beauty I hid from my own eyes, far from any window from which my haunted home would breathe
i smiled, and bent to pull a weed we hugged and shared well wishes i had no words only flowers
it was for you
a garden, your garden~
healing petals to touch reflect life’s beauty
to impress the strength of your name: one who never, never gives up
© ruth follmann
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