The Garden

Online dating is a funny way to meet people.
Catalogs of pictures, personalities, and personal interests.
Or as we used to say: The Personals
When paper and print were the king and queen.

Today it’s computers and the web.
But I am drifting,
It’s funny to think about
Her personals said she likes the outdoors, skiing, hiking and gardening.
She told me that gardening was a joy.
She told me about the flower bed out back.

As our relationship developed,
And we began to spend more time together.
I took a look out back.
Small rocks and old partially buried bricks ringed her garden.
It was filled with tall weeds, small weeds, spreading weeds
flowering weeds and more and more weeds.

It still brings a smile to me.

A garden is life, it needs attention and nurturing, weeding and watering
When you lapse, all hell breaks loose.

It was a warm spring morning,
Still in my Sunday paper reading robe,
Slippers still on my feet.
I wandered outside,
The high morning sun warming my face.
I looked down into the middle of the garden from hell.
There, peaking through the weeds was a sundial
That could no longer tell time.
This will not do.

I got on my hands and knees,
And push my hands into the wet morning soil.
Cold, as if winter still wasn’t ready to let go.
Roots intertwined in my hands, 
Dirt pushing under my nails
I began to pull,
And it pulled back.
Pachysandra, pretty pachysandra, pretty stubborn,
Damn-it, it won’t let go.
Suddenly, jerking back, success, I got it
So many more to go!

Sue found me pulling pachysandra in my morning robe,
And told me I looked ridiculous.
But soon joined me.
We spent the morning, pulling weeds out, and growing closer together.
Pretty soon her children joined in.

It took the whole spring.
We pulled weeds, fought the bugs and the bees,
Laughed, with lots of dirty knees.
But we did it!
And now the garden its beautiful
And on a sunny day, wearing your morning robe and slippers
Walk to center, look down, and know the time.

David Gray