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Image for the poem Mint

Mint

I won't be coy,
this isn't a hint,
currently all I grow is mint.

In the inner city,
gardens aren't pretty,
my neighbors don't like plants, just weed.
I want much more,
lush gardens by the score!
But fierce summer heat will always impede.

My sister grows a bounty on her porch,
but Oregon's heat isn't the Phoenix blowtorch.
Still, here in this desert apartment I know.
there are plenty more herbs I could currently grow.
like basil, rosemary, chives, cilantro

And do that I must,
if you know what I mean
i am happiest when I'm surrounded by green.










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