The Gardener
Spring stillness, morning dew,
the trowel pressed into black loam,
home for worms and pill-bugs.
Tender seedlings, just unfolding,
planted into the rich earth.
Pulling weeds, planting seeds,
the arbiter of life in this
small patch of green
reclines beneath the spreading tree
and waits for summer.
Roots grow deep and stems, striving
toward the soaring sun, rise up.
Next season’s bursting bounty
swelling in Summer’s heat.
He pours cool water from a can.
Red wagon, wheels sinking,
overflows with abundant produce.
A colorful bounty paints Autumn’s
silhouette on her table as trees,
slipping into slumber, release their leaves.
Winter’s white paints a silent blanket,
the hearth ablaze, a jar of peaches
near the frosted window.
Soon, the first thaw will come
to liberate Spring.
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