I'm not sure the veggies will win,
the crabgrass has immortal roots and spreads
over the soil, strangling everything in its path.
how did this stranger arrive, most likely hidden
in a bale of "weed-free" straw
I should have known better.
The tiny seedlings are rising from the soil and
the contest begins, I will raise my sword
against the weeds in the enthusiasm of early summer.
as the heat drains my energy while cheering on
the weeds, I know I will put down the tools
and retire to my back patio to drink
mojitos, the fresh mint rising into my nostils,
the alcohol relaxing me into blissful