Sunday, May 13, 2007


It's finally spring and I'm gardening like a mad thing. Today I got some nifty hostas at Ye Olde Loblaws for only $5.99 each-- those Epic Perennials are always a good deal though they tend to be a bit forced and leggy so need calming down once they're transplanted. We've spent the past couple of weeks laying a winding flagstone path in the back with discarded stones scavenged from fancy neighbourhoods. Rather a lot of work but lovely looking, especially now I've planted thyme between the cracks.

Nice metaphor for most of what I do -- planting thyme in the cracks...

Here's a poem influenced by all this recent activity.


Faded, bent, and obdurate

its yellowing lace deceptive

the delicacy of old ladies who survive their mates

to work on in the garden

season after season

with arthritic fingers

who know the names of all winged visitors

and can recognize their songs across the twilight

as the nicotiana releases its scent

who plant verbena, penstemon, lobelia and monarda

for the butterflies and birds

and David Austin roses for themselves

who do not deadhead the sunflowers

so the creatures will have something to eat

who keep cats, but never set mousetraps

who use their best china every day

and jump the queue at the grocery store

because they have so little in their baskets

and no more time to waste

copyright Susan Glickman 2007

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