as i sit under the the canopy
of nasturtium that thrives, so wild in this yard,
i swear i can turn my head and look back again
and it’s grown another foot.
it’s already taken over the fence and the railing.
i should pull it, i should.
a weed is flower in the wrong place
but who is to claim that i’m not the weed
and the nasturtium the rightful owner of this space?
the honey bee drones as it lands on the flower
just to my left. instinct - my body freezes,
then relaxes and i soften my gaze to appreciate
my fellow visitor in this vibrant landscape.
my finger twitches in desire
to stroke her soft fur painted
in yellow and black stripes designed
to act as a warning -
like her cousins the tiger and the snake.
i pull back and keep my wandering finger to myself.
this worker bee doesn’t care if she shares
this garden moment with me.
after one quick nod in my direction
she recognizes i’m no threat,
just another curious traveler
in this summer garden.
