Weeds by Carla Martin-Wood
Bent over her garden
of topiary perfection
weeding away
what grows without permission
pruning back
what strays outside the lines
hat blocking out
undesirable sun
that’s how I found her
Each day
I walked past
silently dared her
to reach through
whitewashed pickets
that fenced our years
call my name
give me a reason
to forgive
perhaps if I saw regret
or even hesitation
in that smile of satisfaction
each time
she tore roots from earth
Senility blessed her
with forgetfulness
of driving rain
cold
long ago warehouse
telling me
young and frightened
go inside
let someone
weed her grandson
out of me
Now
my son
researches a cure for cancer
speaks on BBC
smiles from magazine covers
blooms
The last time I walked past
she called out
frail
childlike
Here, lady – here –
I’ll give you my best one
across the fence
proudly handed me
a rose
meticulous and manicured
Leaning close
I saw empty eyes
heard her small voice
hollow and broken
felt something finish
whispered back
You already did.
Bent over her garden
of topiary perfection
weeding away
what grows without permission
pruning back
what strays outside the lines
hat blocking out
undesirable sun
that’s how I found her
Each day
I walked past
silently dared her
to reach through
whitewashed pickets
that fenced our years
call my name
give me a reason
to forgive
perhaps if I saw regret
or even hesitation
in that smile of satisfaction
each time
she tore roots from earth
Senility blessed her
with forgetfulness
of driving rain
cold
long ago warehouse
telling me
young and frightened
go inside
let someone
weed her grandson
out of me
Now
my son
researches a cure for cancer
speaks on BBC
smiles from magazine covers
blooms
The last time I walked past
she called out
frail
childlike
Here, lady – here –
I’ll give you my best one
across the fence
proudly handed me
a rose
meticulous and manicured
Leaning close
I saw empty eyes
heard her small voice
hollow and broken
felt something finish
whispered back
You already did.