Garden Jealousies
I sometimes wonder
If the grass in the yard grows jealous
Of little alyssum in all its blooming glory?
Or if alyssum thinks how grand
It would be to live ceramically
In a pot, or if it would somehow be
Better to be a rose, coming back
Every year without even worrying
How much he’d bloomed?
Maybe the rose just wished
To be that pumpkin sat
On the porch all jack-o-lanterned out
‘Neath all the falling leaves,
Or little green bean
Picked faithfully and cooked
For a family of four
Or maybe more.
Maybe they all envy
Sunflower, shining in the sun
Beckoning the bees
Hanging on until the freeze.
Clematis clings jealously
To the Trellis—
Or is it just me that is jealous?
October 2022
About This Poem
While it's been a while since I wrote this poem, my inspiration was my own garden. I wrote it in October when much of the cleanup and winterizing occurs. I don't truly believe any plant harbors jealousy, but I certainly envy the end of gardening season and ponder all the plants I care for while hoping the winter is kind to them. Sometimes Idaho winters have a way of killing off cherished plants, though that is certainly not the case this year. I suppose the poem also expresses a bit of regret at the passage of time and the change of seasons. The photo is from Sonnenberg Gardens in Canandaigua, New York in October 2024.
