Two Years Later

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. 


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