Poem: Transplant
By: J.K. Durick
Misplaced first time, fresh from the garden center –
Placement and the season are everything sometimes
Too much sun, too little water, or drainage, of course
The resilient native weeds and bugs contributed —
Stunted, wilting, they had to be moved, so on Friday
We dug new holes out front, where the sun is tamer
The ground moister, we moved them one at a time
Placed them properly this time, we hope, but again
We must wait – best laid plans and all that – this is
Life and death for things of beauty, things we control
As much as we control anything – the elements of
Time and place become ironic here, we guess, we plant
We wait and watch, the sun comes up, it rains or doesn’t
And the things we have planted flourish or fail beyond us.