Dear Zoe Nova :

I found this interesting free verse poem in the Nature Genre of WdC, and the title interested me. However, I see that this piece doesn't really focus much on gardening or plant life, but seems to focus on your smug thoughts as you rest in a hammock in the garden.

In this piece, which is more akin to prose than poetry, you find yourself in the hammock, resting easily and quite pleased with yourself because you believe that you have 'everything in place". You never explain what you meant by that, but go back to relaxing and reveling in your feelings of self-satisfaction with some event that is set to take place, but again, is never detailed or explained.

The reader is left with drawing a blank in that nothing is explained or made clear.

Oh! One thing is clear as you wrote:

"My rendezvous with joy in that
Tattered garden
Healed me to a point beyond despair." - - - what is clear is that the garden is tattered through neglect. I guess you're not one for gardening?

Well, I sincerely wish that the focus of this prose had been on the garden, such as the title insinuates, and not on your own smug achievements, but, either way, it was enlightening.