My four o’clocks shed blossoms and seeds all over my porch
But they are vibrant and bountiful
I can’t uproot the thriving, despite my husband’s concerns.
I like to watch the bees busy among them,
And sometimes at sunset, the elusive sphinx moth
But the seeds are uncomfortable on bare feet,
Which are often on my porch.
I wanted a broom to leave on the porch,
A daily zen chore of clearing and collecting
I sent my husband to the store for a straw broom
Simple, elegant, efficient.
I didn’t realize the variety he’d be face with alone.
He chose one labeled for outdoor use.
Black, plastic, frugal.
A disappointment too superficial for complaint
The motives for my request not clearly conveyed.
My un-zen attachment to a broom.
I apologized to some visiting bare feet,
The broom couldn’t live on the porch and was not used so much
The explanation of my superficial dilemma was met with understanding
Rather than judgment.
She had a rarely used straw broom in her garage
She’d happily trade for the frugal broom.
A broom exchange has been arranged with
A witch after my own heart.
Together we will fly
Practical and elegant