Winter days of monochrome
We keep shivering in our homes,
Dreaming of the spring garden
We plan to plant when winter ends
Kneeling like a muddy drudge,
Hoeing ripe manure sludge,
The vegetables and flowers I see
Are still imaginary to me
Summer and while picking fruits,
A carrot snaps off by the root,
I’d not imagined it like this,
Washing tomatoes off bird shit
Dreaming of idyllic fields – we woolgather
Bright great bountiful lives,Discounting in the moment those vexing chores
Needed to make lives we desire
Fall leaves, vine stems, old hard and brown,
Time’s tillering plow will turn them down,
Then rake all up & till & hoe,
A garden grave made smooth for snow
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