after my haiku "for those late to blooming,"
the gardener's gloved hands move slowly when
he packs a new plant into place. it's
a white and indigo columbine this time, petals all
fanned out like a threatened cobra. over
time the stem will droop, and the color will blacken, and we'll
know it's time to discover
the next specimen that
will take its place. flowers
have always been fickle things, desp...