“They Do Connect, Somehow”
Gardens, so serene, sometimes.
“Don’t pick the damn tomatoes until red,
Not orange!” she yells, and the uncle did.
“Don’t plant too close, and thin.
Like with the tomatoes,
I’m always having to tell you!” she yells,
And the uncle did.
“Wait until the peas and beans are pregnant, big, fat!”
She yells, and the uncle did.
The rusted ice cream truck plays “Silent Night,”
And the kids run in the twilight’s heat with dollar bills.
“Silent Night” plays, and Christmas is nine months off.
The dreams of loss:
Students on hikes in snowstorms.
Students in deep classrooms.
Children in big houses,
With dead parents and aunts and uncles
“This makes sense?”
“Yes, it does.”
Eugene “Gene” Novogrodsky, late March 2013