I remember when you called to say
that you were planting a garden today.
My excitement for you was pure and true
and we knew there was much to do
before life could grow properly
in your garden hideaway.

I watched you sprinkle water down
from your watering can
and spread fertilizer across
the soil of your young plant,
making sure it had all the nutrients
needed to live.

You tended lovingly to your seedling,
singing it songs
and weeding out all harmful things.

We called her Peanut.

You were so proud.

I was with you the day Peanut was no more.
Your garden was no longer full of life.
Nothing grew there.
Your carefully weeded soil did nothing
to stop this from happening.

I now watch you look at the empty seed packets
while you think of your empty garden
and the pretty things that should have grown there.
You were a good gardener,
but apparently your thumb wasn’t green enough
to keep the fates from
ripping your plant out of the earth.

I remember when you called to say
that you were planting a garden,
but I wish you didn't.