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