Every chance that I get during this pandemic,
I have been gardening.
It only makes sense.
Clip the leaves,
deadhead bulbs,
pull the weeds.
Is this soil or is it soul?
Arlene,
So much of life is garden.
The damp that wraps your palms,
the ground that burrows under your fingernails,
like no one ever wants to get their hands dirty.
The long, long wait
for bloom.
So much of life is planting.
Till, soften, dig, set
Refill, (often) fix
the stem and wet
the earth -
wait:
hope:
let some other force
take its course
with your work.
Rest
is the one chore
you should never shirk.
