Gardening
Plants for a poison garden
Published in
May 7, 2024
I grew a garden of wilted flowers.
I bathed them in salty water,
hid my marigolds under trees,
and placed my begonias in full view.
I sewed uneven stitches
of narcotic pills
and watched as they grew
into monkshood and laburnum.
I fed earthworms to the raven
who whispered secrets about my neighbor.
We chortled in our little haven,
and I gave it silver rings from my lovers.
A leaf couldn’t rest on the ground
before I picked it up.
I’d write notes across their veins
and scatter them during my daily walks.
In the winter, I’d make bouquets.
Crisp and delicate in their stands
until summer’s dryness returned,
only to replant them again.
