The Finale

The Finale

Last Spring, Willamette Valley
Spring unfurls fast and I litter the house with my heat.
The garden unfolds.  Morning and night I check
seedlings for their growth, their color, their thirst.
Beans open their mouths and breathe.
Tomatoes are planted deep, suckers pinched.
The night air is sweet with lilacs.  Wildfires burn.
Tender tomatoes scald, I obsess about water.
I decide the garden will either thrive or shrivel up.
Please, let me rid myself of this heat, a maddening
wool scarf wrapped tight about my neck.
Let me inhale the grit of cool, rooting soil once more.
For now, I nap in the afternoons, eat strawberries for dinner.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s