Treading through the petunias

Early January, 2010
Picard, Dominica

This semester break I took a little job
Greeting frightened students oft unruly mob
They had flown with Liat from a foreign gate
Wondered why their luggage arrived another date
Arriving by the busload causing quite a stir
In the stifled darkness it was all a blur
To rest my weary mind I wondered to the edge
Placed my tired ol feet on a concrete ledge
From the hazy darkness came a gruff voice
Informing me of my error in choice
Who was this scrawny little bit of a man?
Freeing verbal assault against my resting plan
Seems the churlish gardener took major offence
Too close to his petunias with my sole intents
I just gave him a scowl and moved on along
Contents of my thought this poem don't belong
There is another story, remarkable and true
Coulda given gardener spiteful payment due
Friday in Roseau after shopping trip
I stopped for coconut water bought a little sip
Across the road from where I parked waiting on a bus
Was the grumpy ol gardener what a growly cuss
Somewhere deep inside me my moral compass spoke
I offered a ride to this lowly bloke
Groceries were shuffled my boys scooted aside
Made room for the gardener for a Portsmouth ride
Inwardly I giggled, he'd assumed my job
My two little boys competing in the mob
Seems these little fellas when they are tired
Upper limits of voltage their nerves are wired
This controlled melee carried on for a while
But their tiredness waxed with the waning mile
I noted a difference in the back seat
Treading through petunias with their bare feet
Silently they floated through this dreamy land
Heads cradled carefully in the gardner's calloused hand