|Chocolate Lily (Camp 2015)|
My grandmother called them volunteers,
those bright, sturdy plants that simply appear
in unexpected places, leftovers
from previous seasons,
the seeds forgotten, now
a yellow flowering vine
or a meandering pumpkin
taking over a corner.
Gardeners don’t always like
this unexpected bounty,
for we’re not talking tidy rows
Instead the seeds arrive,
perhaps floating on the wind
or dropped by birds. These self-set plants
grow on their own, tenacious,
sometimes invasive, bringing change,
surviving, despite another round of seasons,
roots digging deep,
something like me.
Today's prompt from OctPoWriMo is the road less traveled. I could write a book about that . . . but I didn't see the prompt until after I had written today's poem, a melange of memories from growing up and feeling I didn't quite fit in. I've even experienced a volunteer or two in my own short-lived gardening. You might find this article on what to do with volunteer plants amusing, now that the season for growing things is nearly past.
Read what other poems have been written for OctPoWriMo HERE.