JANKA HOBBS

Kimura Nursery

In the photo, she smiles, eyes on the gardenias she is trimming,
Plaid jacket nearly hidden behind the foliage.
Perhaps shy before the camera, her laughter bubbles just below the surface.
By the time I worked there, she was off to other pursuits.

But I know that greenhouse!
For a while, I worked there too.

Every morning, I drove to Kirkland ,
Dropped my toddler daughter off at Suzie’s daycare,
closed the door to hear her howls of protest turn to giggles.

Then back to Redmond, to work:
Coffee, a donut, aspirin.
The smell of geraniums and Osmacote.

Load 250 poinsettias into the back of a Ford Ranger:
Pack in the first row, carefully slide in a shelf board,
fill it, working section by section back from the cab.
Colorful bracts brushing the top of the camper shell.
There’s a trick to stacking the boards
so the pots won’t tip
on the way up a parking garage ramp
to deliver them to a corporate client.

I had permission from my boss
To bring slightly wilted returns home
So my neighbor could distribute them
To shut-ins from her church.

I could have worked there longer,

But my son arrived,

And my time was filled

With other kinds of flowers.