Experience
For all planters of seeds
Water
clumping drops
Tread heavy
on my garden,
As its
greenness explodes,
Late this
spring but sure.
The pea
vines, tangled,
Knotted,
flattened, pressed,
Struggle to
stand and face
The bully’s
quenching weight.
I placed a
ladder there,
Above their leveled
reach
For them to
reach for,
And to pull
against.
Lifting one
up, myself,
Proved
futile; they must
Have a
spine, still stiff,
Though the
rain bent it.
True
gardeners, having seen
Before,
remembering
July’s flowering
harvest,
Move to
other meddling.
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