After the Marriage

by Laurie Zimmerman

Here I am in the yard
standing at the edge of the garden—
this used to be yarrow
tangling the stalks of black-eyed Susan
and the purple fizzed Joe-Pye weed,
and this, pink-cupped mallow,
over there a profusion of wild geranium
I would pull to relocate all summer.
Here I am before the shrubbery
of ragged forsythia, roots
crusted into a muck of fall leaves,
rake loose in my hand—
this used to be grass under my feet
and this, a marigold bed,
over there a yellow dog, two white chairs
turned toward the road.


  1. Change is something we can surely count on, isn't it? Whether we want it or not.

  2. This is so sad it's frightening.

  3. So haunting - she does paint a picture of loss.


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