Part I
Dying
green cascading
down to stream water
wearing on still rock.
Degrading
green turning red
reaching, beseeching
up to moving sky.
Trees, stream, sky.
Coming into,
then passing out of,
seen and unseen
beauty in change
and death.
Part II
“What are you doing, Mom”
“Oh hi honey, I didn’t know you were here. I want to finish grading these beds. Aren’t they going to look awesome? Just the way I always imagined they’d look. Come down and help me.
“Ok but you know this is a total waste of time. It’s not even your garden anymore, technically.
“I know honey but I invested so much of myself into these beds and they’re so close to being terraced just right. The new owners will probably love the way they step down from the fence into the yard. Bring that bag of soil from up there with you.”
“Or they might tear them out or let them weed over. Here, let me move these rocks. Did you have to get the most gianormous ones you could find? These are really heavy and it’s kind of hot out here.
“I got them over at Hamilton Park. They’re the last picks of my rock relocation program, yuck, yuck.”
“You know Mom, a little of that goes a long way. You’ve been making that same joke for at least five years.
“I know, son. Your father used to think it was funny every time.”
“I’m glad you mentioned Dad. You know, it’s not just the garden. I think you’re having a hard time with all of this. We lost Dad but you’re not giving up his memory, just the house.
“It’s not that hot out. It won’t get hot for another month yet, just about the time the hostas pop. I hope they like hostas. There are so many of them in the yard. But the daisies I planted between them died. Oh and the day lilies! I forgot! I need to thin those before I go. They’ll overtake the new people before they know it if I don’t. Go get my long handle weeding hoe out of the garage, will you?”
“Mom.”
“Let me do this in peace, ok? I’m having a hard time, so kill me. This is my therapy. Now go get the hoe please. I’ll finish off the rocks.”
“Here, it is. Oh my god, you’re planting herbs? Seriously? Are you going to leave anything for the buyers to do out here? Where were you hiding those, in the basement?
“I just want to give the them an idea of the best use for the beds until the perennials come in. There are all kinds of good ones in the lower beds, my irises, astilbe and delphiniums. Then later, my coneflowers, bee balm and rudbeckia….
Whatever, Mom. What’s the saw for?”
“Oh, some of the lilac branches are growing into Doug and Natasha’s yard. See there? I told them I’d cut it back before I go.”
“I’ll do it. Here, take my shirt. I don’t care what you say, it’s hot out here. I’m not used to this heat anymore.”
“You’ve only been away for nine months. You kids sure shake the past off quickly. I was saying that to your sister last night. She called in between scene changes.
“I don’t know why Doug and Natasha care since they’re moving soon as well. Just these two branches, right?”
“What? Who said they’re moving? Where’d you here that? Help me up.”
“From Doug when we were talking about my junior year abroad. He said they’re moving to Denmark to be near her family because of the baby. I guess they didn’t tell you.”
“No, I had no idea they are planning on leaving. That makes me sad.”
“Why you won’t even be here!”
“Because my love, the neighborhood that I know is not going to be the same. It’s a nice neighborhood with nice families. We were here a long time. You grew up here. I think it’s so sad.”
“Mom, flowers come and go, people die and people move. Things change.”
Dying
green cascading
down to stream water
wearing on still rock.
Degrading
green turning red
reaching, beseeching
up to moving sky.
Trees, stream, sky.
Coming into,
then passing out of,
seen and unseen
beauty in change
and death.
Part II
“What are you doing, Mom”
“Oh hi honey, I didn’t know you were here. I want to finish grading these beds. Aren’t they going to look awesome? Just the way I always imagined they’d look. Come down and help me.
“Ok but you know this is a total waste of time. It’s not even your garden anymore, technically.
“I know honey but I invested so much of myself into these beds and they’re so close to being terraced just right. The new owners will probably love the way they step down from the fence into the yard. Bring that bag of soil from up there with you.”
“Or they might tear them out or let them weed over. Here, let me move these rocks. Did you have to get the most gianormous ones you could find? These are really heavy and it’s kind of hot out here.
“I got them over at Hamilton Park. They’re the last picks of my rock relocation program, yuck, yuck.”
“You know Mom, a little of that goes a long way. You’ve been making that same joke for at least five years.
“I know, son. Your father used to think it was funny every time.”
“I’m glad you mentioned Dad. You know, it’s not just the garden. I think you’re having a hard time with all of this. We lost Dad but you’re not giving up his memory, just the house.
“It’s not that hot out. It won’t get hot for another month yet, just about the time the hostas pop. I hope they like hostas. There are so many of them in the yard. But the daisies I planted between them died. Oh and the day lilies! I forgot! I need to thin those before I go. They’ll overtake the new people before they know it if I don’t. Go get my long handle weeding hoe out of the garage, will you?”
“Mom.”
“Let me do this in peace, ok? I’m having a hard time, so kill me. This is my therapy. Now go get the hoe please. I’ll finish off the rocks.”
“Here, it is. Oh my god, you’re planting herbs? Seriously? Are you going to leave anything for the buyers to do out here? Where were you hiding those, in the basement?
“I just want to give the them an idea of the best use for the beds until the perennials come in. There are all kinds of good ones in the lower beds, my irises, astilbe and delphiniums. Then later, my coneflowers, bee balm and rudbeckia….
Whatever, Mom. What’s the saw for?”
“Oh, some of the lilac branches are growing into Doug and Natasha’s yard. See there? I told them I’d cut it back before I go.”
“I’ll do it. Here, take my shirt. I don’t care what you say, it’s hot out here. I’m not used to this heat anymore.”
“You’ve only been away for nine months. You kids sure shake the past off quickly. I was saying that to your sister last night. She called in between scene changes.
“I don’t know why Doug and Natasha care since they’re moving soon as well. Just these two branches, right?”
“What? Who said they’re moving? Where’d you here that? Help me up.”
“From Doug when we were talking about my junior year abroad. He said they’re moving to Denmark to be near her family because of the baby. I guess they didn’t tell you.”
“No, I had no idea they are planning on leaving. That makes me sad.”
“Why you won’t even be here!”
“Because my love, the neighborhood that I know is not going to be the same. It’s a nice neighborhood with nice families. We were here a long time. You grew up here. I think it’s so sad.”
“Mom, flowers come and go, people die and people move. Things change.”
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