The Thoughtful Horticulturist Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

He love all of his flowers and plants
He tended to them with extravagance
He indulged their beauty with attention
Blooms were glorious and free of tension

The glass of the greenhouse did not reveal
A transparency in his heart that did not heal
His immense capacity for love was spent
On the orchids and lilies with exotic scents

In the garden of tranquility he had no fears
Outside of these panes he ached with tears
Returning to his sanctuary; into nature’s arms
He was at peace and beyond the reach of harm

Everything was tended to at the end of the day
Humid warmth embraced as he put tools away
Newspapers were laid on the freshly swept floor
He lay down amongst the floral friends he adored

The next morning as dawn’s light brought sight
The silent gardener was deaf to a scream of fright
He was found with a single bullet wound to his head
With his final task; he chose not to stain with red

1/25/08