D’s Bones

i
We tried to plant a garden
some years ago.
Even hanging deer netting
turned into argument.
The soil was sour—
only blackberries, Scotch broom,
and sticky weed thrived.
Later, removing the old netting
required too much
effort.

ii
Spring breathes urgency
into an eruption of peonies
near my porch. Here,
Heavenly Bamboo
shimmers in the sun,
chard and kale just surface
the soil.

iii
The distance
between us
sighs.

This is an older poem, recently revised and re-felt.
In the past I found it surprising that poems of a relationship’s ending are nonetheless regarded as “love poems”. However, I have come to see there is great wisdom in this view.