by Kenneth Pobo
Each day you give your garden
more love than you give to people.
He makes demands—
you feed him, spend a fortune
trying to please him. He only laughs,
infects you with Lyme disease, poison ivy,
offers no concern. In sun or rain,
he snaps his fingers and you come
quickly. He doesn’t desire just you,
lets in deer, groundhogs,
Japanese beetles. Your adoration
won’t stop his promiscuous invitations.
Often in the kitchen, you say to yourself,
“Not today. He can wilt in the heat
for all I care.” Five minutes later
you’re out, carrying him a drink.
Kenneth Pobo’s book of poems, Glass Garden, will appear from
WordTech Press in 2008. His work appears online at Forpoetry.com,
The Adirondack Review, Three Candles, The Externalist, Idlewheel,
and elsewhere. He enjoys writing, gardening, and doing his radio show
called “Obscure Oldies” at WDNR.com from 6-8pm EDT Saturdays.
On “Impossible Lover”:
Along with writing poems and listening to music from the ’60s and
early ’70s, gardening is probably my chief interest. However, a
garden, for all its pleasures, is a taskmaster. When I go away on a
summer trip, I worry if we’ll get enough rain. Plants that haven’t
established yet stay on my mind. I used to like deer—now that they
threaten the garden, deer are threats, not Bambi. The poem, I hope,
reflects my love of the garden—but it’s a love that requires plenty
of attention, perhaps too much in my case. And in the fall, when
frost takes the garden plant by plant, I can’t bear to let it go. Like
a lover, I mourn its passing. I hope the poem is humorous, too.
◄ Home Apple Valley Review, Fall 2007 Next page ►
Apple Valley Review:
A Journal of Contemporary
Volume 2, Number 2
Copyright © 2007
by Leah Browning, Editor.
All future rights to material
published in the Apple
Valley Review are retained
by the individual authors