Alienation & Weeds

Old widow Cereson lives alone
in a suburban sort of isolation.
She has lived there forever
& I can't imagine walking down Mulberry Street
without seeing her bent over in her garden,
making certain everything is in order -
pruning her petunias,
conversing jovially with her chrysanthemums,
fussing over the philodendrons like a mother
bundling her children for a nippy day.
She has never been one for neighborly chatter;
in fact, whenever she sees me coming
she rises like a scraggly scarecrow,
eying me suspiciously until I'm gone.
She is the mother goddess of a foliage fantasy,
ever on the vigil for encroaching weeds,
like me,
who would intrude upon her little family.
Its all she has.

- Barry Kapke, 1979
Berkeley, CA