By Emalisa Rose
Last year was a lark; your mom
sent some Florida sunshine, along
with a packet of seeds in the mail.
we laughed; both of us lacking green
thumbs, but we planted.
abracadabra! without even trying,
a rainbow of field flowers made
This year we’re serious; our parched
plot of land, is now called a “garden,”
along with directions and top soils,
landscaper’s planting tools and
intentions to grow pink perennials.
but this time, I’m worried. I’d be
crushed to go through the Summer and
not see our flowers come up.