This is not
a poem about roses
even though I tried to grow
them – too cold
they said and I closed my
ears and grabbed more
shovels
the third dead rose bush
only provided mulch
for the fourth
digging up is hard
when I found myself watching late
night infomercials and taking
notes on magical growth remedies I
took a deep breath
and spoke to my
mother
I try to pretend that the
geraniums
don’t look smug
Geranium- Stupidity
Every May (and sometimes into June), I do a series of poems based on Victorian flower meanings. Welcome to the Darling Buds.
For more stupidity (and occasional genius), my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.
Cat Amesbury 
I/took a deep breath/and spoke to my/mother/I try to pretend that the/geraniums/don’t look smug
That’s a great segment there
I’m glad that you enjoyed it – I only wish that the sequence was metaphorical.