gardener
the
expectant earth
surrendered
another
row today
my
back girdle-cinched
against
a concert of injury
my
shovel
puts
strength in my arms
as
the black soil peels back
worms
and tiny roots
me
and the yellow sun
are
glad to be
ahead
of the game
sitting
in the swing
i
hold hands with her
she thinks
the
garden is country casual
with
its chicken-wire fence
but
i picture
that
salvaged patio lumber
forming
next year's border
and
a new fence
to
keep the rabbits out
the
squirrels go where they go
Wonderful reading Mexico!!!! It is so crazy that we can see and hear you and feel your words from such a distance. Country casual....I so love that line. When the garden is what we have then the garden it is...damn the squirrels!
ReplyDeleteWonderful poem; I love listening to you.
ReplyDeleteBeccy