Amok.

Larkspur seeded next door seven years gone. Seeds saved six. Seeds sown five years ago. On their own hence.

I’ll hope to snag a few in a few weeks

To bring them back “home.”

Next door to where they first laid down

Before oft they went to roam.

Our mystery has bloomed. A mystery, to me, it remains.

This pollinator of the “tree” of perpetual chard (taller than me!) See?

Turn and look down the birds’ sunflower path.

The radish seeds bulge bigger than the broccoli.

And just as I crouched down to capture the half of society, this little flutterby appeared and perched so perfectly.

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I think he remembered.

It’s been ages since he’s been. Five years, perhaps? Half his life.

He saw my grubby shoes go by the door.

Wag.

I put on sunscreen.

Dance.

I grabbed my keys.

Whine. Whine.

I picked up the leash.

Loaded in the car, he quieted. Tongue lolling. Bracing corners. Toppling.

Just before the driveway to the parking lot.

Whinewhinewhinewhine.

Pranceprance.

I know, buddy, me, too.

Any guesses on this volunteer?

Monday mystery.

I think I sowed these. I can’t for the life of me remember what they are (assuming I sowed them.) Any guesses? They grow in single spires until they’re too tall and then start to bend near the ground.
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