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June 02, 2009


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Oh so that is the name of that: Foxgloves.Thank you. Gluck would love Orem's garden as she says she got her Wild Iris poems from the flower catalogue. How I admire gardeners like Laura that make it metaphoric for us while they get dirt under their nails.

This is a lovely post - a lot of lessons to learn from gardening! But, wait, did I read "pool"? You have pool? Can I stay in the cabana if I weed?

Absolutely - but you have to share it with Charlie Marconi, our cat, and all of Rick's ham radios. There's a 1950s vintage fridge, though.

I enjoyed reading this poem, especially the way nature parallels human existence.

"Hello? Laura? This is Ben. My wife, Emily, and I owned the property before you, Laura, remember?"

"And I'm Emily! Hi!"

"Yes, well, we just drove by the old place last Saturday, and we wanted--"

"Oh, tell her the truth, Ben! How I cried!"

"Now, Em, you didn't really cry. It was more of a moan, wasn't it, dear?"

"If she goes after that Boston Ivy--"

"Sweetheart, it's Laura's and Rick's now. They can do what they want. Right, Laura? We just wanted to check in--"

"Tell her we know where she lives--"

"Well, of course, we know where she lives, dear--after all, WE used to live there, right? Heh heh--oh, god, no! Emily! Get back in the car! Emily! Laura, get inside and lock the door--oh dear, I think it was the columbine! Emily! EMILY!"

OMG - I can't stop laughing! Now I'll be nervous around every little old lady in Red Lion.

Laura, glad it was funny! We can discuss gardening when we have that drink in September.

As a fellow gardener, I understand your plight perfectly. Here it is June, and I'm still doing what I call "clean-up" work, meaning fall leaves and broken branches scattered over my property. But I really try to look at the weeds with a zen mind, which sounds pretentious, but hey, it's justification for my lazy weeding ways.

The photos of your flowers are lovely.

I also been working in the garden this week,finally, It seems, since it's been raining non-stop here since December.Any way your poetry is so attractive.I like it.

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I left it
on when I
left the house
for the pleasure
of coming back
ten hours later
to the greatness
of Teddy Wilson
"After You've Gone"
on the piano
in the corner
of the bedroom
as I enter
in the dark

from New and Selected Poems by David Lehman

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This Way Out

by T.P.Winch

Ringfinger was nervous
Pinky terrified
when they learned
that Hand might succumb
to the rule of Thumb.



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