Netzach she b’Yesod*
When iris roots, for years undivided,
begin overlapping like toes crowded
into too small shoes—they stop flowering.

The gardener in stiff and creaky achiness,
must kneel down, dig them up,
to create a bare space in the earth.

After drawing out the root hairs of stray
weeds, she adds composted manure,
turns the soil, then  nestles a few

divided iris lobes, widely spaced,
in the newly nourished ground.
Starting all over is the only way

the ice-blue aromatic bearded blossoms,
will unfurl after winter’s sleep,
to once again perfume the air.
                                    5/28/2011
   *Eternal Perseverance w/in Rooted Generation