2/2/2016

One day you were weeding
The garden
You saw me and pulled me up
But I wouldn't go
You said
"Get out of here,
You're choking my plants
You know!"

But I didn't know.
I hadn't the slightest clue.
I watched instead,
Anticipating what next you'd do.

This is what you did:
You went to
Your shed, took out the hoe
And grubbed me up by my deeply
Rooted toes.

I wouldn't go without a fight
But eventually I came out
You stared hard-though I'm merely
A plant-and said: "now I hope that you
Never return."

So I didn't return, I caught the breeze
And left from under your nose
And made a nice bed beneath
The bountiful bush of your
Grandmother's prized rose.