Uncle Joe’s Garden
uncle joe decided
many years ago to stretch
his portfolio of distractions
and plant a small flower garden
next to the side door
of the ranch house
where he and aunt agnes
(named for the saint)
mostly came and went
thought it might be nice
to have cut flowers
when they set a pretty table
from the very start aunt agnes
(so unlike her namesake)
hated in her words
the whole damn thing
said it did nothing but attract
a swarm of bees (she was
deathly afraid of bees) and other
horrible bugs that threatened
to fly inside the house
in a futile attempt
to alleviate her fixation
uncle joe sprayed outside
with a popular insecticide
to no discernible effect
except to kill a bunch of pollinators
and besides aunt agnes boasted
with a certain je ne sais quoi
at a friday poker night
the two hardly ever set a table
preferring instead to have
their supper on a tray by the tv
a decade or so later
after living overseas
in a country where french
was mostly spoken and
being nearly broke and
having sheltered for long stretches
in unspeakable places
i returned to the states
and stopped by to pay
the old couple a courtesy visit
to see if they might be able
to spare a little cash
heading up the walk
i stared hard for a long moment
at the plot next to the door
overgrown with weeds
evidence of their failed
experiment in growing
there was not too much
for us to talk about
during my short stay
we passed the time mostly
in a long slow silence
after cycling through the formalities
of how have you been
who had died while i was gone
and there was not much
for me to remember
when it was time to go
except that patch of weeds
leaving as i expected
mostly empty-handed
over the years that followed
i would think time and again of them
as i move haphazardly through my days
from one unimportant matter or another
puzzled over how
little they understood
about plants and flowers
and other living things
clinging as they did for
so much of their lives
to inside games
with decks of cards
with suits that never changed
regretting how little i gave to them
of what i began to understand
they might have needed
and on some rainy nights
alone inside i also thought about
what i needed most from them
but believed i never got
convinced as i was when last i left
that it would be a long while before
i found myself coming back