Defiantly she allows last year’s dirt
to cover the house. All the years
her house was a show, dinner delivered
by four. The garden was beautiful then,
people travelled miles around to see
the exotic flora in an over soaked land.
She planted the tree the year of her child,
she thought they would grow together.
It grew but he did not, painfully she remained
the blossoms reminded her every spring
of everything life could have been: beautiful,
simple, happy, full of life. Years went by,
her husband marching people in and out,
to fix her, to find out what was wrong with
her, to demand she complete her wifely duties,
until finally, he said a timely good bye.
She was not sorry the garden had over grown,
she emerges in late January, early February to tenderly
prune the white cherry blossom, with a heavy
heart she stops the bloom.
Amidst the clutter of her past the path to
remove what is no longer wanted is treacherous
but she makes the journey to endure her life,
the one she was given.
– L.J. Lenehan –