In my first gardening days, I planted few flowers, hoarding what little space I had in those days for vegetables – work to eat, work to eat. How years unravel and unwind. Today, the garden is lush with vegetables, but my beloveds are the blossoms. This morning, the reseeded calendula is nearly open. My earlier days, with nursing babies and accumulating bills, were a scramble to plant and weed and harvest. These days, I pause and watch the traveling pollinators at their work. Sustenance.
Your peonies burst out, white as snow squalls,
with red flecks at their shaggy centers
in your border of prodigies by the porch.
I carry one magnanimous blossom indoors
and float it in a glass bowl, as you used to do.
– Donald Hall