Waiting for Cleome

Afraid to turn the soil
afraid to plant
afraid to miss that first small fleur de lis
you watch
you wait
you give up.

Finally
you see a cluster of green
where you know the
seeds from one cleome fell
all
together
when the November cold
cracked the pod
(like the hose you forgot to put away)
and dropped the seeds--
plop--
into a savings account
in your name.

The interest far exceeds
Wall Street numbers--
it could be a Ponzi scheme you think--
but then you cease to think
at all
as you watch
the seedlings
grow up
taller than your waist
and fill the garden with their spidery arms,
afraid--
again--
that legions of cleomes will
strangle your roses.
Gardener's Arachnophobia.