Evening Gardener

Tonight, I am an evening gardener

Putting the earth to bed

Cleaning up last season’s weeds

To make room for something new to grow.

Grass stained shoes

traipse the lawn in well-known patterns

Gathering tools, just to put them away

Cleaning earth, where there is endless dirt

Clearing weeds, where they always grow again.

An exercise in foolishness, or faith.

I live with the possibility for a while,

of tomatoes and beans, marigolds and coryopsis

Though reality may make a liar out of me.

For now, the earth and I merely share a moment,

And my vision is enough.

I work until the sun winks at me over the horizon

And blesses another day’s end.

©2011 Donna Jo Wallace.