When lilies breach the fence

I looked out my kitchen window yesterday morning and found a perfectly landscaped little backyard. My neighbor Linda’s plants had generously stretched themselves over and under our fence to gussy up our yard in magical ways.

I never lifted a finger.

So, I wrote this poem.

I should note that we love all of our neighbors and we’re lucky to have them. We’re a block-party hosting, garden-treat sharing, kid-on-a-bike cheering, lost-dog-finding place. I think the world at large, though, could use fewer fences and more people willing to breech them,

When lilies breach the fence

The lilies of the valley came first,

slipping so stealthily across the property line

we didn’t notice them take root.

They waved in the daylilies,

tangerine trumpeters of sunshine and good cheer.

I spotted and saluted them one day.

Curious, the ivy followed,

peaking and then creeping over to the other side,

rising curtains on the summer show.

What say you, beautiful garden I never planted?

We’ve watched you sow your seeds of kindness and light,

asking neither permission nor compensation.

Can you advise the rest of us?

Because, if lilies can breach a neighbor’s fence,

Why can’t we?