The evening has come
The to do list so much shorter
Money is counted, tasks are started
There is hope for the summer
The hands fond a moment to touch the soil
Wet from the rain,
Responsive to shovel and hoe
Choosing the plots where the plants will live
The hands have almost forgotten how to use the tools
There is a fear to learn the new ones
The machine is overkill
the hand tools are not quite enough
Too much, or too little?
Why is harvest all at once?
The stomach waits in anticipation
Three months, and there will be food
The eyes see the cherry tree decorated in white
The leaves now fully open
So many trees waiting to produce fruit
Onions waiting to go in the ground near the trees.
The eyes see the potatoes and peas
The eyes see the cabbage waiting to grow
So many wonderful foods
The stomach will be well pleased
Will I enjoy the garden this year?
Or will it again be the year of the Squirrel