The gourd vine grows wildly again this year. A mystery. Baby pumpkins? Striped, winged gourds? Little white ones?
Out front, in the flower beds, a watermelon plant, perhaps from last year's Fourth of July festivities. A straggler, a weed. Is there time for it to bear fruit?
I don't know. I look every day, to wonder at the profusion.
Out front, in the flower beds, a watermelon plant, perhaps from last year's Fourth of July festivities. A straggler, a weed. Is there time for it to bear fruit?
I don't know. I look every day, to wonder at the profusion.
Child, we've done our best.
Someone will have to weed and spread
The young sprouts. Sprinkle them in the hour
When shadow falls across their bed.
You should try to look at them every day
Because when they come to full flower
I will be away.
--from "Heart's Needle" by W.D. Snodgrass
2 comments:
Amy,
I'm just saying hello and happy summer and thank you for your letter. I apologize for the long lapse--I *have* been thinking of you--but I couldn't get out from beneath the giant work weeks to write something thoughtful in reply. But do know the intention was there. Hope you're well?
Blessings,
g.
Hello Gina,
Hello and happy summer to you as well. I hope you are enjoying your travels this year; I'm enjoying your photos.
All is well here, the move is less than two weeks from now and I'm practicing saying goodbye to everything and everyone that has made my life in Manhattan so fulfilling.
But, I look forward to new places, new friends, new gardens and walking paths wherever we may go.
Best,
Amy
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