by Alice M. Swaim

I need no Rosemary nor Rue
for my remembering,
No faded flower, no lock of hair,
Not even spring.  

When all the wind is your sweet voice
And all the rain, your tears,
There's no way of forgetting
Immortal, radiant years.   


As featured on
The Daily Gardener podcast:

Words inspired by the garden are the sweetest, most beautiful words of all.
Alice M. Swaim
Alice M. Swaim