To my garden on a steamy afternoon this story will unfold.
Amongst the Zinnia flowers of blue, pink, yellow, and blue.
I casually walk in the tomato rows
For a glance at you.
What I found was only disappointment and anger.
Otis the Groundhog dropped a half eaten tomato out of his mouth, grew a bewildered look on his face and darted for a tunnel escape left the day before.
For him none could be found,
Only a heavy rock in its place.
He is my nemesis of my gardening year.
He consumes my crop daily,
And I feel his laughter so clear.
I fix and mend fences after he has gone,
To outsmart that bastard I continue to think on.
But today he is caught in my grasp.
I grab the ax and grip it strong in my hand.
He has had his last meal,
And I will put him to his end.
I raise it high above my head and ready my aim.
Off with his head I say aloud,
So my garden can slowly mend.
I hesitate and look in his eyes.
A scared lonely survivor is what I find.
I feel his intelligence, and that should not be his end.
I grab the shovel and dig a hole under the wire.
I give him a swift kick in his rear,
As he wedges his way clear.
Off into the kudzu jungle he runs
Shaking and scared.
I feel I taught him a lesson, and he may never return.
But, I listen and almost hear,
From his belly a laugh and delicious tomato belch.
I feel relief That my nemesis carries on.
To beat him perfectly and honestly is a quest I will not surrender with a hateful death swing.
I wipe the sweat from my brow,
Grab my hammer, and a handful of nails.
Mending fences is never easy,
But at least my conscience is clear.
I went for a garden stroll.
I strayed low for an instant,
But for this reflection,
to Otis I do owe.