Broadside of Domestic Garden by John Hoppenthaler.
A ghost has disarranged these roses
lining the walkway. Some greenhouse
jokester must have switched
Jackson & Perkins packaging — Heaven
On Earth for Change of Heart, Black
Magic with Beloved. I’ll name them
rancor lilies in your absence, thought
I don’t hate you, & they’re not lilies,
& you aren’t really gone, except in the way
presence sometimes contradicts itself.
Should they grown on me — fugitive varietals
I never thought to plant — will they lure
your bouquet any closer, sprirt
away weeds I’ll name neglect, aphids
who’ll stay aphids, sucking at the stalk?