Little Noticings – Everyday Poems


By Margaret Aitken

I planted seeds in the dirt
in rows at first
but then in wiggly sprinkles
and scattered handfuls like chicken feed.

Somehow the seeds popped up in sprouts
of bright green leaves
but then there was no way to know
what is flower, what is weed?

And now the flowers and the weeds
have grown and tangled
in a beautiful sprawling
and leaning way, together.

Who knew that weeds could flower
with dainty white petals
and soft pink ruffles
and who decides what makes a flower anyway?
and what makes a weed?