Bastard Cabbages by Joan Currie

I pulled out the last of them
with the point of a
rock climbing pick.

The dirt was hard–
their stems thick as rhubarb.

Then it rained
for five days straight.

Bastard Cabbages returned,
invading my sweet garden,

their leaves spreading wide
like skirts of court gowns.

But such extravagance
left little room
for daisies, snapdragons, and
sweet peas
started from seed.

I carved out a space
around the tiny flowers.
They, too, needed
light and air.

Could I keep
such a place?