Father grew those rose bushes in angry
soil for roses, too much sand for any other
gardener, never for a moment doubting
himself and neither did the gods it seemed,
for there they would droop over the fence.
Don’t ever tell me I can’t, or I will. Don’t
speak of impossibilities or I’ll make them
surrenders. I learned that from my father
in the yard. He believed and I never doubted.
If he had said mountains, I would have said yes!
I think the saying is: Expect nothing. After
father, I couldn’t do that. It just didn’t seem
right to imprison myself though some would
call it freeing. I expect the world of the world.
I expect gods to be smitten by my “roses”.
And so they are.