In My Garden

Nancy Issenman

after On the River’s Edge by Phil Hey

I want to talk about things I love:

the way my ambrosia apple trees bend to the wind;

how alyssum, with its purple and white stars, hugs the edge

then reaches into the gravel path;

rhubarb leaves like elephant ears in the strawberry patch; 

white nubs left after the ripest raspberries drop;

the smoke bush billowing its amber clusters  

as if to say how simple things can be–

blueberries now absent, will return next season

and paint my grandson’s lips deep indigo.