let it go, let it go

I let her garden go. 

                let it go, let it go 

How can I watch the hummingbird 

Hover to sip 

        With its beak's tip 

The purple bee balm--whirring as we heard 

It years ago? 

 

The weeds rise rank and thick 

                                            let it go, let it go 

Where annuals grew and burdock grows, 

    Where standing she 

    At once could see 

The peony, the lily, and the rose 

Rise over brick 

 

She'd laid in patterns. Moss 

let it go, let it go 

Turns the bricks green, softening them 

By the gray rocks 

Where hollyhocks 

That lofted while she lived, stem by tall stem, 

Dwindle in loss. 

 

[Donald Hall {1928-2018} 'Her Garden', from The Best American Poetry 2001]