Sweet pea, sweet William

by Henry E. Powderly II

Sweet William at home in a hole dug by dirty fingers in earth forked loose and cleared of roots and rocks twists its mane of pink and red in breezes with the other garden blooms. Proud flower, watered by underground pipes by spouts and hoses drinks under sunlight and drops, from its scented sunburst, pearls of water on dark soil, on sour mulch, on Miracle Grow, for a season. … Sweet pea, dragon faced big-nosed and veined, quenched in thunderstorms, climbs a sapling that rises from a rotting stump. Shy weed-blossom, having wrestled with thorny twigs and strangling weeds, thumbs its purple beak to the spring sun, and summer sun, to the mud of wet June, to the split soil of August drought, and fans the fall breeze that sways the ghost of Sweet William.