But can we grow in this garden?

my mother’s ghost meets me in the garden

she helps me pull weeds we place in the bin

my brokenness is showing

when i tell her the news of the world

we become tough native species

we adapt to this soil

our long roots hold us in place

we become sage

we become thyme

we tell ourselves that we must survive this drought

we become slender oats nodding in the wind

it’s so peaceful, quietly all together like this

she wants to stay a slender oat forever

but i tell her we can’t

i can’t

i tell her i’m still here and i need to be stronger

so she becomes an olive tree with me

ancient

sacred

indestructible

we sing Hatikvah our hope is not yet lost

two olives fall to the ground where they sit like wishes

---