MY COMEBACK ROSES
We have a garden
and I have become, by necessity, a gardener.
Our move to the country to a house with over an acre of land meant some
gardening had to be done. With books, a spade, and the knowledgeable voice of a
local nurseryman we plant shrubs, grasses, flowers.
dirt under my nails
I trade pink polish
for peonies
sweeter and longer lasting
than any manicure
Success with
daisies, phlox, black-eyed susans, irises, spirea and many shrubs and annuals
have swelled my head. I’m a gardener! I’ll plant roses next. Pooh on all the
doubters who say they are hard to grow. The roses do well that summer and
survive the harsh winter, leafing up
beautifully in the spring. Then, catastrophe. The leaves are full of pin holes
and getting brown. Buds are shriveled. Aphids! That's what the nurseryman tells
me. I go on the attack, spray heavily
and wait one week. Two weeks. One morning I see new leaves growing. By mid-July
new buds have formed. I spray again and wait.
a rose bouquet
sprinkled
with morning dew
in bare hands
ignoring the thorns and pricks
and fresh drops of blood
Haibun Today, June 2017
