Meditations on Winter Geraniums

1.

My geraniums in winter grow leggy
and now the blooms,
too heavy,
bear weary stems down

like a fast-growing girl
grown too tall,
self-consciously has to bend over
to be with friends.

2.

Spring brings growing pains to plants
lined up, fertilized, 
and cut back
to a prior childhood.

3.

There is this about carry-overs:
they are persistent,
insistent
that the time has now come

to do whatever they want
and be left alone,
to receive respect that is due.

Like God, 
I inflict great punishment
to enforce new growth.

I want them again to grow blossoms:
reds, pinks and rose,
even whites, since my pride’s on the line.

4.

There's a smell to age that is sour
and becomes a stench
where wheelchair sitters are gathered
to greet family,
otherwise old friends.

A blue bowl in the lobby
holds potpourri
laced with geranium leaves. 

The spicy scent
covers somewhat the bathroom smell
of the patients, patient in chairs,
who are not aware.