back together

the ad read "updated, contemporary ranch
with professional perennial garden..."

the house was perfect for us.
and five years ago we purchased
a beautiful bunch of hostas and daylilies and
grouping of other things my limited language
does not allow me to pronounce.

excitedly, i tried to nurture you.
you were a giver of lush greens and purples,
entertaining the plumpest yellow jackets on the block.
i felt like a grown-up when we were together,
trotting across your soil in my fresh new crocs.

at first i was unaware that the summer sun
was damaging our carefree courtship.
and you grew needy, insecure and vulnerable...
i guess i wasn't that into you, and
after the initial spring bloom i was bored.

i avoided you and started things up again
with my air conditioning and dvd player.

occasionally, i would try to reach out.
but you had changed.
you were more difficult to maintain.
the three oak trees that had once
draped you in shade were dead
and you mourned their absence.

we both knew you had to become something different.

i am asking for a second chance.
i hurt you and i take responsibility for
not being there when you needed me most.

just yesterday i got down on my hands and knees.
i massaged your neglected earth with nutrients
and a commitment to try harder...

i think this time we will make it because
i am finding more joy in giving than receiving.