I am no lady, weeding
deep as soil goes, elbows in
and eager to seed,
stopping to wave at my neighbor
who says my kneeling
is more a predictor of spring
than inconsistent robins,
but she’s not a dirt person,
forgets her own clay
and the garden we were cast out of
with a shudder,
but I remember.
I am all earth, grounded
and down to it;
shameless murderer
of dandelion exuberance,
welcome everywhere else
but here, where I want tomatoes
and that’s the key
to growing–knowing what to plant
and what to pull up
no matter how deep
the root.
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So many ways to love this one.
Thanks, Nelle!
Fantastic piece 🙂 Makes me want to go outside and garden…
Thanks much–Tired now, but worth the work.
Reblogged this on Spontaneous Creativity.
Ah … your gardening heart 🙂
Yes! I saved the garlic from those pretty dandys, too 😉 What a mess.
Readying, weeding, uprooting and making choices – as in gardening as in life,
Yes, Noel–so much neater now, but I do hate to pull up dandelions. They are too pretty. I think a garden (and life) needs a few surprises where we don’t plan or plant them to make both interesting.
but she’s not a dirt person,
forgets her own clay
and the garden we were cast out of
with a shudder,
Very deep and powerful lines, Susan. Ironies of life is that we forget what we are made of in the heights of our glories; that we are but man, fallible and in the finally analysis, dust to dust and earth to earth. Brilliant piece 🙂
Celestine–thank you, and you are making me blush. But, yes, we do forget where we come from too easily.
Reblogged this on A.C. Rooks.