“I have a choice: / To put aside this seed, Leaving the planting / To the proven growers, Pretending not to care / For gardening, And knowing, / If I do not try, I cannot fail. Or plant, And risk again / The well-known pain Of watching / For the first brave green And seeing only / Barren ground. The seed is in my hand, / The trowel is in the other. I am going to the garden, / And to the Gardener, Once more.” (“Mother’s Day,” So Far: Poems by Margaret Rampton Munk) The poems of Margaret Rampton Munk (a distant cousin of mine) are full of loss. Meg…