The garden store has flats of pansies.
Hardy enough to bounce back after a frost,
they promise spring color before it’s safe
for impatiens or petunias.
 
I head home with twenty-four plants,
purple faces cheerfully grinning.
and spend the morning in a coat,
carving holes with a hand shovel.
 
Turning moist earth, I recall
that my father taught me
to position plants before digging
and gently loosen tangled roots.
 
Daddy used to say it’s more practical
to purchase perennials, plants that come
back year after year like returning memories.
 
But today I put my faith in pansies,
heart-shaped petals not too fragile
for the lingering chill in the air.


© by Jacqueline Jules.
Used here with the author’s permission.