ROSE ANNA HINES
Gardener’s Burial
Gardener’s Burial
Earth
to earth
ashes
to ashes.
When
I leave this garden
may
my blood and bone feed the earth.
Grow
exotic fungi,
or
sharp bitty watercress for crisp salads.
Or
sweet drip-juice-all-over-your t-shirt apricots
or
purple ruffle basil for clams with pesto sauce and linguini.
Or
peanuts for some child’s peanut-butter and jelly sandwich
or
lavender for Drakkar Noir
to
touch some rugged man’s face
and
haunt a woman’s dreams
Or
plain grass for some cat or dog to eat.
or
pansies, daffodils and roses
to
inspire a Van Gogh or Okeef.
Or
a pesky weed that grows
regardless
of how often it is pulled
and
how dry it seems to get
and
doesn’t let concrete or cursing stop it.
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