28 August 2005

          Grandmother's Garden

          In later years, she sat here rarely. Most of the time,
          she lay on her bed in a darkened room where
          the air was musty and sunlight never shone.

          As well as I could, I kept it growing
          for her. She could no longer do it for herself.
          Yet her life was linked to this place.

          I watered her orchids of golden shower,
          unchoked her potted plants from weeds. With a stone
          I crushed the life from snails and fed them
          to the earth. After storms, I helped fallen shrubs
          to climb to light again.

          Sometimes a sunbird would come to sip nectar
          from my grandmother's flowers, and every New Year
          the kumquat branches would fill with orange fruit.
          In the years that passed, not a single bonsai died.
          A tree can live forever.

          She would go more easily, I sensed,
          if she knew that the life here would endure,
          long after she herself had left.


Orso Dorato said...

Gilbert this is another great poem

dsnake1 said...

Hi Gilbert,
First time I'm visiting your site, and wow!, it's beautiful. The use of the classic paintings is a nice touch.
I'll be back to read your poems, they are great.

dreamer idiot said...

Just discovered your site yesterday, loved this poem, The use of caesura gives it a nice contemplative tone, and last stanza clinches it 'oh so beautifully', Keep posting some of your poems from time to time...I think many of us, your readers would love this very much. Thanks.

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