I just returned from a visit to Reno, Nevada. While there I had to walk…
The French philosopher Michel Foucault once said, “The garden is the smallest part of the world and the whole world at the same time.”
The garden teaches, supports, disappoints, surprises, and gives us pleasure at various times.
For some the garden also inspires.
I never met a gardener who was also a poet.
That is, until I met Robert Knox. His book of poetry is simply titled Gardeners Do It With Their Hands Dirty.
The poems he writes show that he understands the ups and downs of gardening.
He knows the stress and joy of one who works in the garden.
He writes, “In the garden, I know,
“That everything is forever and always was
“Until it isn’t
“And even then I’m hedging my bets
“Because, understand, there’s a garden metaphor for everything,
“Even the things we haven’t thought of yet.”
Since fall has arrived, and we feel it already, a poem about one of my favorite fall flowers, the anemone, might be in order.
Bob Knox writes,
“Anemone. It’s name speaks to me
“The name that is its own poem.
“When all else fails, a single green plant begins to flower
“Pink, daisy-shaped, soft fleshy ears around a clock face of yellow
“Coming so late; a message from another world
“Buds round and puffy before they open.”
September truly is a month for the garden and the gardener.
And he writes,
“September: the turn in the year,
“The turn in the poem of life.”