You got me three black raspberry plants
for Mother’s Day from an heirloom seed catalogue.

Jewel Black Raspberries​: the listing said
hearty, vigorous, erect, glossy black balls of fruit.

We take our son to the plant store to buy fertilizer and
tell him to stay velcroed to one of us.

Before planting we watched the conjoined twin
frog surface at its favorite spot in our pond.

I say frog because only one of them appears sentient
which is what makes my skin crawl with fascination.

The smaller twin frog on top has glassy eyes and arms
fused in an embrace to the larger. Their legs pump in unison.

(According to the internet,this phenomenon is not noteworthy —
for that I need a conjoined triplet frog.)

We put our boy in the wagon on top of the humus manure
and the blood meal and the bone meal and the lime.

The day before we dug a pit in the shape of a grave. ​You won’t follow
my advance directives, will you​,
I say. ​No​, you say — you always say no.

We pull the seedlings from their jars on the windowsill. Three rings
from water trapped underneath mark the wood until winter.

– Lyndsey Weiner

Lyndsey Kelly Weiner is a graduate of Stonecoast MFA and teaches writing at Syracuse University.