Oh Foxglove
You make a fool out of me every year
I smartly plant you at the back of my perennial garden
Where you languish and *fake* die
I search through my gardening books
trying to find
what I'm doing
wrong
Next year
there you are
appearing in the front of the border
where you tower over the
other plants
When I raise my finger in your direction
to issue a stern reprimand
You lower your head
sorrowfully,
eyes filled with tears
You know your way
around my rules
around my garden
around my heart
