Friday, June 15, 2007

To Whomever Abandoned A Pot Of Zinnia Seedlings On Our Porch Steps

We’re most profoundly honored by your trust
and do our best to nurture them with care
although we wonder why you felt you must

get rid of these poor plants. Did secret lust
compel your purchase of them? Was it fair
betraying their profound, dishonored trust

by leaving them with strangers? Was it just
a whim to buy them, because they were there,
and you’d been browsing, really felt you must

buy something. Say, a seed-tray full of dust—
or zinnias. Or did you, in despair
decide you’d found no honor and no trust

in flowers or in gardeners? Blackened crust,
the hardpan of your heart—so on our stair
you left these seedlings, as you felt you must.

We'll never know. We were a bit... nonplussed.
Abandoned seedlings: it's a sad affair.
Our tender foundlings honor us with trust
and we will care for them; we feel we must.

2 comments:

laurasalas said...

This is a fun poem--love this line:

We'll never know. We were a bit... nonplussed.

Maybe instead of all the plants I've killed over the years, I should have thrown in the towel sooner and delivered them into sanctuary on a stranger's doorstep:>)

Cloudscome said...

What a hopeful and cheering poem. I like to think of those zinnia seeds sitting on the porch waiting to be nurtured.