The trees are taller, but only a bit, I think.

Then realise I am taller too

but the garden is almost the same, yet something

has changed — the Hibiscus is gone,

as is my uncle who first showed me its flower,

told me it lives for just one day.

Now I wonder how a blossom achieves so much

In a twenty-four hour lifespan

and then ask myself, What have I managed today?

The other change in the garden

Is a small breathless child who runs up to hug me

squeals Daddy, runs away laughing.

And though the uncle and hibiscus are not here

One day soon I will tell my child

Of the lesson that the old man taught me right here

of what we can achieve, in just one day


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