What’s unseen is still there–
the worms within vines that fail
at the peak of greening. Like cancer,
there are hints if you’re trained to know them,
how to cut what kills, and nurture what’s left
until frost.
A rainy June softens and separates barriers,
and the oldest leaves droop, yellow, fade–
the givers of the garden
gone before their fruit is left
in boxes at the side of roadways
for free, or filling bags
on neighbor’s back steps.
***My offering for dVerse: Summer today.
Susan Daniels Poetry 
its been a very rainy june here…many of the plants waterlogged and dying…maybe dying for a bit of heat to dry them out…it does take some skill to tend the plants…to keep them alive…like little children…smiles.
It does–especially when you need to perform surgery liek this. Sigh.
Gardening definitely is an art. So much to take care of AFTER seeds are planted. And then there is the worry if there is too much or too little rain! But the fruits are definitely worth waiting for.
They are…sigh. I never thought I’d grow up to be a plant surgeon.
heck…you’re doing some kind of plant surgery here…. our spring was way too wet as well…luckily all my plants survived
Yep. I am cutting into a vine to remove a worm. Nature is sometimes devious and often cruel.
Sounds like a lot of work with your gardening.. we have our tomatoes bigger than ever.. lots of flowers… and no heat.
Ah… Sounds wonderful!
Delightful, Susan. I especially like the first stanza and comparison to cancer.
Thank you, Laurie.
reminds me not to look out my back door – it’s a jungle right now! very well crafted, but that’s obvious… because it’s yours. 😉
Shuffles feet, hangs head, blushes. Then remember manners and says Thank You!
A lovely poem I wrote of the unseen too – but other-worldly. I like your reminder of the more earthy unseen.
Oh – lack of punctuation! I meant YOUR poem is lovely (not mine).
I am sure yours is lovely–thanks for liking mine!
You must love gardening and having your hands in the soil! It can be so rewarding but for me it’s a lot of bugs, decay and smell, all of which has an opposite: butterflies, budding flowers, and beauty….what’s not to hate I am thinking….interesting what you are doing here…
Beautiful painting with words. I could see it.
Gardening is a wonderful passion and agree much “mothering” goes into it. I talk to my plants and notice every little bloom and blossom. Emotional when a favorite plant succumbs to something unknown. Lovely write!
The curing is in the cutting and killing. Wow!
It’s a virtue to be friendly with Mother Earth! Worth all the sweat, Susan! Nicely!
Hank
Love the grower knowledge in your head. I bet you are a mushroomer – know which to pick and which to avoid.
Nah–too much of a coward to learn that 😉
you make the work of gardening sound quite intricate and artistic.
Susan you are so tenderly conscious of the small unseen things that eat and hurt our roots! Your heart is so beautiful and budding! I admire you deeply !
Aw, Deb, thank you!
My black thumb knows no bounds in killing plants. Though I have gotten better. Nice write and interesting depiction of the worms in the plant – who knew? -Mike
Thank you Mike–they are sneaky buggers, those worms.
loved the drama you put in the garden