The Lost Garden

There she is... she looks so sad.  Is that a tear in her eye?

Our caregiver dedicated the last decade to seeding, weeding and feeding us.
We owe her, but I've heard it may be too late.
She may never see us bloom, or smell our beautiful fragrant blossoms again.

Remember how she would photograph us, and breathe in our delicious fragrance,
and display us proudly on her kitchen table.
She's eaten my honeysuckle blossoms in the early summer mornings
when she'd come over to visit me.

So many of us drowned in the salty waters last fall during that unnamed storm.
I heard that her plan was to create a totally wildflower garden this year.
That was the plan before she received the disturbing news.
That's why she's so blue.

Aster, I've heard that the news came so quickly she had no time to 
transplant us and take us with her.
Yes, Iris.  It's true.  I fear that no one will feed us or care for us,
or love us once the fence is built and we are forever separated from our caregiver.