The Can


 

Still it sits
atop the bench
by our garden wall
just where she left it

how many lilies
has it nourished
how many daisies
lilacs
roses
how many morning glories

it dispenses
its life giving waters
so gracefully in her hand

a delicate hand
gentle in its loving touch

gentle in its task
of planting
gentle in its tend

but rugged on any weeds
threatening her garden

she
the giver of life
the guardian
of her realm

but she could not stop
all that threatened
and I had not
her gift of giving life
oh would I had

so there
just where she left it
on the garden bench

still

*
rob kistner © 2021

Poetry at: dVerse

 

58 thoughts on “The Can”

  1. What a gentle and caring woman she must have been. So sad that no one can really stop all of life’s threats. I like how you used the watering can image to make her visible to us

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  2. Oy. This is a bit of a heart tugger. The can left in the place where she left it, perhaps the last time. I feel too the grief a bit at no being one to be able to like her give life.

    I ma glad that the dehydration was nothing too serious yesterday, but you did right in taking care of her. There are things more important than poetry. 🙂

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    1. I have a light green thumb. Some of what I plant grows. My wife Kathy and my son Justin, with whom we now live with mu daughter-in-law and grandson, are ‘bright’ green thumbs. He has built an urban vegetable and berry garden that is the definition of abundant! Garden to table succulence. And my wife landscapes the home here gorgeously. Could be a magazine spread. I just marvel at the two of them, and they both do it in their spare time! WHAT! Of course their spare time starts after dinner, and goes until after dark — and includes weekends. BTW — Kathy seems fine today Brian, thank you for the kind words. 🙂

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    1. It is the small things about my son Aaron that pop into my head and can put a tear in my eye even 26 years after his death. I was watching my grandson Alex toss a football with hid father, my son Justin on the 4th of July. Alex had just made a very difficult catch and he began to jump up and down, rubbing the palms his hands together rapidly, just like his deceased uncle Aaron used to do. It sent a warm feeling through me, and put a quiet tear of remembrance in my eye. It was a tender and unexpected moment for me. Aaron died on 7/3/95. My daughter Jennifer was born on 7/5/72. The 4th of July is an emotional time for me already, but that little action by Alex really tugged my heart.

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  11. Rob this resonates with me. There are some yard ornaments from my ex-bf that are still out in the yard. So many reminders…

    Not sure what happened with Kathy, but I’m glad she’s feeling better now.

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    1. Thank you Lisa… 🙂 Kathy had a major potassium crash, the result of severe dehydration from a stomach cold. So hydrate my friend, and keep your potassium fortified.

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    1. Thank you Ingrid! 🙂 The older I get, seems the grumpier I get. But the sweet melancholy that apparently comes along with that, helps me call forth, from time to time, whatever tenderness still resides in me. This one felt sadly wonderful. Sounds perhaps like an oxymoron, but I am a strange old bird. The many years I wrote songs, and sang professionally — the sad songs were my favorite to write and sing. I could really poor my heart into them. I enjoy crying, and do so at the drop of a hat. The right, well-done product commercial will even bring my tears.

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  18. Memories come flooding this morning, of my Mother, Grandmother … their various watering cans … none as lovely as yours. Thank you for the gift of this glorious poem, Rob.

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  19. I can really feel this one… to have a garden left from someone like that… every flower a reminder… surely you must continue to tend such a legacy.

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    1. Glad this resonated for you Bjorn. Were that a situation I would find my self in, my health would not allow me to do too much tending, but I would find someone close by, via gardening clubs, who would enjoy tending it — and I would support the endeavor. My wife Kathy has beautifully appointed the 1/2 acre plot of my son’s home here, with whom we live, with a splendid array of grasses and flowers. My son Justin is a brilliant vegetable and berry gardener, so in the very unlikely situation that Kathy, 16 years my junior, what pass before I do — Justin will joyfully take tend of Kathy’s grasses and flowers. With justin’s sizable veggy garden, and berry planters spread around the two-story wooden decks, and Kathy’s grasses and flowers landscaping — being outside here among the natural beauty, is quite uplifting.

      Reply

  23. This is poignant and immaculately written, with tremendous depth and poise.

    Refined, its weighted words look delicate on the page, but sit heavy on the heart.

    This is how to write beautiful free verse. I can learn a thing, or two.

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  24. Poignant, and delicately crafted, delivered with tremendous poise.

    Refined, and weighted, the words look delicate on the page, but sit heavy on the heart.

    This is how you write beautiful free verse. I could learn a thing, or two, from you.

    Reply

    1. Thank you Darius, it is a writing style I began many years ago. No capitalization, no punctuation — I simply use line breaks and separation to accent the piece, and move it along with proper emphasis. Takes a little practice, the form emphasizes the spirit of the reading and conversational punch.

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  28. You are so blessed to have green fingers within all the family members. This translates to having an urban garden with all of its goodness, an envy to many. Great, Rob!

    Hank

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