In tiny little pots

In tiny little pots along the peeling red deck

I grew my haiku from syllable seedlings


All around the house I planted my lullabies

In colorful songbeds angled to catch the sun just so


Lined up the ballad starts under the window

In curvy old porcelain tubs lined with mulch


Summer evenings, I filled the potbellied green watering can

And slowly watered the tubs and rows, thinking of something else

But I was making it all up as I went along

Because I didn’t know


Early dewy mornings, I sent the hopeful children out

To cut snippets of song for the breakfast table

But the deer had bitten the heads off the anthems

The squirrels had dug up the ghazal seeds


Because I was making it all up as I went along

Because I didn’t know


And I heard the flashy ads saying “Get ‘em here!”

“Buy ‘em pre-potted, full-grown, all wrapped in a bow!”

Oh I was sorely tempted: Hymns by the dozen! Tunes by the yard!

Can’t you just imagine? All the songs just so?


But no. I keep memory-mulching, rhyme-seeding

Verse-weeding, watching and watering

Hoping and hoping they’ll grow

Even though I don’t know


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