My Grandmother the ballerina
is gliding in a backless tunic
across her lawn strewn with petals
among the blooming China Trees
The White clusters of thick snowy blossoms
they make her smile and she wanders beneath them
like a swan gliding on water
the ginger plant looks like small green frogs
jumping are the piles of leaves all about the garden
so that one starts to look out for frogs
The roses pink and happy blooming wildly
blooming their hearts out for joy,
and the little injured hosta my grandmother
has been separating into twenty  pieces,
struggles to drink the water from confused roots.