I lost Julie’s old red with its long, arching canes,
and the big pink I planted just last year.
The miniature blush Jeri gave me when Ruth died
finally gave up the ghost; it’s tiny stems brittle.
I see no life in Moonshadow out front
(but I hear Cat Stevens in my head)…
and the David Austin damask is gone.
Heirloom, Evelyn and Prince are sprouting fresh red growth!
The thorny prairie growth that came up uninvited fifteen years ago
is bristling with new leaves amongst its orange hips, and Hansa, Meidland and another couple scragglers whose with crimsom and fuscia blooms are giving a stretch on the hill.
Oh! and the ever returning carpets are ready to give it a go.