I found this poem last spring, just after the last forsythia bush had turned green. I had to wait a whole year for the next blooming, and then I found that the poem is absolutely right. No one does plant forsythia anymore. The forsythia I found was mostly on private property. Private property with overgrown yews and old landscaping.
I finally found a row of forsythia by the library, separating the parking lot from a busy highway:
and taped Alison Brackenbury’s “Schemes” to a branch:
I love this little poem, but can’t figure out why it’s called “Schemes.” Any ideas?
If no one plants you anymore,
Thanks to your eleven-months-and-ten-days-dun-brown hue,
Lankiness,
And general
Un-tame-ability,
How will you ever get yourself propagated?
Loved?
Hmmm. . .
Maybe be a color that explodes upon the scene.
Will that work?
Try it!
(Well, it can’t hurt.)
Ah!
Look!
The sparrows that flew above and saw not
Are diving in,
And the eyes that glanced away
Now linger
Like a lover’s.
(Is this what they call
A win-win?)
[This came out sounding and breaking like a poem,
Mainly one that pales beside the one with the intriguing name.
Damn, here I go again!
Blame it on spring, wanting to make a poem
Out of everything . . ]
Wonder if such a strategy would work for those who’ve reached the Invisible Age?
Love this, thanks!
I gather you mean seniors such as myself. So I’m a ghost! To fight this, today I’m a hydrangea–in purple. (Or is it AN hydrangea? Did that ever get sorted?)
Wonderful! Thank you very much. I think the poem was called ‘Schemes’ because I was thinking of ‘Planting Schemes’. I must have been reading lots of gardening articles. So glad you found a forsythia! Very best of luck with flowers and poetry. Alison (Brackenbury)
What a rare treat to have the poet herself weigh in on a question! Thank you so much….wondering how you found your poem here.
And what a perfect name you have, for a gardener and a poet!
Maybe it’s something to do with ‘the greater scheme of things’. Love the poem and glad someone else welcomes the golden buds too.
Perhaps the reference is to planting schemes or designs. That is what I thought of immediately.
You must be a gardener…..the poet herself confirmed your interpretation! (See comments.)