I planted hydrangeas
She ripped them out
Said they were taking over
She didn’t understand
How they grew so much
So quick to act.
She asked, and I complied
I hadn’t figured out how to use
My no-how to keep sacred things
I asked for a wildflower patch
She told me they were nothing but Weeds. She couldn’t understand that any blooming thing is a flower when we let them be.
Two years later she planted a wildflower patch. She called them mine. Until she mowed them down.
“I don’t think they were coming back this year anyway.”
Two years later she wanted to find a way to get me hydrangeas for my new apartment in the city we would never share.
The hydrangeas were already there. They’ve been growing forgiveness
They’ve been waiting for me.