Jack loved to garden, But our condo didn't Allow it, So one year we rented a Plot in a community Spot. Jack was already getting Feeble, So he had help. His buddy, Tim, Erected a fence around The space, and Jack's son Did the rest. He laid paving stones Down the middle for Easy access. He also planted the Vegetables: Tomatoes, Peppers, Cucumbers, And more. Our job was to keep it Weeded, Watered, and simply Watch it grow. We did our part well. Jack loved to count the Tiny green tomatoes Appearing on the Stems, and even Took pictures to remind him Of the harvest to come. One day I decided to apply a Pesticide to our plants, A safe, organic type, and I thoroughly sprayed Every leaf. When I looked more Carefully at the Blue bottle, I nearly collapsed. The label said, "Weed killer." How could I tell Jack? He was waiting in the car. How could I tell my gardener I had killed his garden and that Nothing could be done? In despair, my feet somehow Carried me there and I Blurted out the bad News. And my dear husband, My kind, gentle, devoted One, His own heart broken, Soothed mine. "It's okay Honey," He said, "It's just a garden." His tender reaction calmed My stricken spirit then, And remembering , Overwhelms me now. |
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Dorothy Kalb Hsu Seitzinger
Writing poetry has helped me process and express my sorrows and joys, my concerns and blessings. "Life is hard, but God is good!" Archives
December 2020
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