by DS Maolalai
doing my aunt
a favour;
pulling wildflowers
from her prize-winning
beds. I’m careful – when I can
I save the stem
and some root,
piling them on the pavement
and pushing the dirt
down around her petunias.
my aunt’s front garden
is filled with red flowers, like a bucket
of crabs, captured
and wriggling. and all the rest of it;
poppy, dandelion, blue mint and wild crocus
stacked behind me
in pathetic
refugee bundles. later, at home,
I break an unsown earth
and insert them at intervals,
tap them down. when I go out
the next day
the wildness is already wilting.
I take the can
and add some water;
it doesn’t help at all.
Category: Poetry, SNHU Creative Writing