I didn't think to ask for woodcocks
nor the fox
nor the merlin in the front yard
nor the fox sparrows in the back,
nor the tundra swans
nor the bald eagle who sailed through the yard
with some unfortunate prey clasped
in its talons.
I didn't think to ask for for the toads
and tadpoles
and spotted salamander eggs
in the derelict backyard pond
we inherited,
nor the robins who prefer its wildness
to a domesticated bird bath.
I didn't think to ask for the two
solitary columbines
nor the ancient clump of peonies
that somehow survived the carnage
of the previous owners,
nor for the softest soil
I have ever worked.
Or that my vocation as gardener
would bring redemption to
this bit of land and
blessing to those who loved it
before me.
In this frightening,
new, collective social
isolation,
and while missing those I love,
I didn't think to ask for
the myriad young trees and shrubs
that will soon surround us
and are fast becoming
friends.
For all I didn't think
to ask...
Thank You.
