Amaranthus

And do you remember

those first sweet cherries,

prunus avium ‘Stellata’?

I look at the tangle of bindweed

covering rotting wood.

The nigella, love in a mist,

gypsophila, baby’s breath,

that was here and here?

I point towards

stands of nettles.

The violas, heart’s ease,

sweet rocket, hesperis matronalis,

harts-tongue fern

that grew so rampantly

in this bed?

The year that 

forget-me-nots and amaryllis

took over?

I kick the giant hogweed

with a worn boot.

And under here?

Buried beneath this

bloodwort and black haw,

amaranthus,

love-lies-bleeding.