Marigolds

Strange
Did not fit with
Crumbling decay
Dusty brown yard
In front of a sorry grey house
Suddenly rose shockingly
A dazzling strip
Of bright blossoms
Clumped together
Warm and passionate
And sun-golden
Old black witch-woman worked
All summer
On her creaky knees
Weeding, Cultivating, Arranging
Children hated them
They interfered
With the perfect ugliness