CUTTINGS

CUTTINGS


The comfrey from Martha Dana
Thrives below the back stone wall.
Bees love the modest flowers
And the lavish greenery has
Many healing abilities.
Cousin Tom gave me creeping violet
From his rock garden and now it is
Among the stones, above the comfrey.

Lady's mantle swapped with Charlotte
for Hosta Elegans  fights for space
With silvery artemesia
From Stella, a constant gardener,
And the mother of my husband.

Years ago, walking with Virginia,
Before she lost her mind,
I pulled up some nice ivy
From a vacant lot
And trained it to climb.

Yellow iris from Susie's place in Fly Summit
Has survived, unhappy where it is.
Bishop's Weed from Loomis Street
Has taken over by the shed.

I've carried a shovel in the trunk of my car
And dug daylilies and asters from ditches.
Betty Ann and Helen poached
My white jonquils by moonlight
From somebody's front yard.

Rhubarb from Julia French is going crazy
Out on the compost
And Julia herself, well over 90,
Is in a nursing home over near Corning.

I treasure all these cuttings.
And watch for them each Spring,
Knowing exactly where each originated
And when it was planted.

When I'm gone, there'll be no remembering.
The next people
Will never understand rhubarb.
And the comfrey will be
Just another weed.



Elinore Standard
From Uptown Dogtown