Mother's Garden

Some thought her rough, especially when she
brushed tangles out of long hair.
She expected good actions from everyone
and could censure bad behavior across a room
with an arched eyebrow and the “eye,”

“You're gonna get it when you get home.”
Yet, in her garden with the most silent
of all living things, she found comfort
in her quiet world, where plants grew
and flourished with her firm touch.

In the entryway there were luscious tropical plants;
philodendron, three kinds of ferns, and a basket
of baby tears. In clusters along decorative rocks,
were succulents, some with soft thorns, others
like beaded pearls, one even shaped like a rose.

A step into her backyard one soon discovered
the ivy covered chain link fence housed more
treasures; a bottle brush bush, four different roses,
calla lilies, fuchsias, irises of purple and white,
the large bird of paradise flaunted its bloom

while the large angel trumpets competed
for devotion with the passion flowers. Two
hibiscus plants under the bedroom windows
left overgrown once the kids became teens.

Strangers and family came to the door
asking for clippings from her prolific garden
but few had her success in making plants thrive.
Many felt she had a special relationship with god
she was blessed with a strong hand and a green thumb.