Saturation Point - Hawaii

Saturation Point Dirt under my nails A withered feeling I did not notice the sun Until I succumbed to a weakness In by back and knees My shoulders sagged My eyelids were Like those lead fishing lures I found in a corner of my scrape yard I’d like to call my garden old The simplification of watching the Process of spring Is a spring Daffodils sprout from my table They are yellow, from Safeway, butter-cup gold Morning glory bells and daisy clusters Could not be crushed In their proliferation on the chicken-farm road The old lady sat triangular A heart’s distance to my house She thanked me for a gift of an orchid and gladiola They were on silken paper, but not fake She thanked me for the real thing and some Potato salad my children had delivered I smiled- There was no dirt under her nails.