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.
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.