by Tierney O'Hara

Created on: May 05, 2008

Put one little seed
in each little hole,
I tell you.

Clumsy fingers try
but soon decide that
all the seeds go into
a single hole.

You pack the dirt down
with two chubby hands
and smile a wide
five year-old smile.

You water your seeds,
dipping a doll's tea cup
into the water pail
over and over
until you are satisfied
they are the right amount
of wet.

All done, you say.

When the flowers bloom
my seeds
are now single flowers
straight backed and stern.
Too perfectly spaced
to be nature's work.

Your seeds have
burst from the earth
like fireworks.
Colors and shapes
and forms entwined
and jubilant.

Now I smile a wide smile.

I wanted to teach you
how to plant a seed,
But you, little one,
taught me how to plant
a bouquet.

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