by Laura Denny

The Garden

It began with a blue bottle bush
planted in a corner of the yard
after his illness first began.

I started to turn the soil over
every morning to make it soft and full of air
with a pickaxe and a shovel,
swinging the ax back and down
back and down in rhythm with my breath,

making the ground ready for growing:
Sweet peas, oregano, lavender, marigold,
a vegetable garden, a small orchard
covered in wildflowers.

I think he would have preferred
I put my shovel down
and come join him in the dark house.
But I had our baby growing
in my body and needed to make things live.

The very first time I looked into his eyes
a small swarm of bees began buzzing
in my heart as if it already knew everything.

One afternoon very near the end
he crumpled down by the pump house.
When I helped him up he put his hands
on my face and held my eyes with his,
I need you to be strong now

His fragile voice dug into my bones.
The clouds moved heedlessly, through the sky.
The smell of oregano and lavender
strong in the air.

***

Wanting to Stay

where love is practicing
the art of invention
in the peaceful industry
of ordinary miracles.

Where bees
with eyes made
for yellow pollen
land and roll
around the soft petals
and trees send
love letters underground,
heedless of how it all
breaks my heart open
with sudden tears.

The devastating joy
of being all at once
broken open with
love for the world
and knowing
loss is swirling
in the same air,

and wanting to stay,
to smell this damp earth,
wanting to stay,
to see the swallows
swim in wide happy arcs
across the blue vault of sky.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash