The Gardener

he was building the garden when i last visited

piles of lumber,  the garden beds outlined in chalk and 

taut lines of string, the cement mixer off to the side for

the required garden shed

he needs it all to be properly set out 

properly done, only then will the seeds know that

it is time, the seriousness of it all, the expectations of

success, this is how it is done

and so

and so, a couple years later, or was it 18 months or

something like that i came back to this place, to his 

garden, not hers, no, his garden, his masterpiece, and the

seeds knew to germinate, and the plants to push up through

well composted soils, towards the sun, protected from

all manners of hopping and jumping beasts, from the aerial

assaults of small insects, the slimy advances of the other

living creatures who seek to feast at a table of such

bounty, just as i arrived as well to gobble down sweet

cherry tomatoes, the last of the season after such a summer

of heat and blazing sun.

what a lovely moment to snap a photo of him

smiling in front of towering pepper plants loaded

with the fruits of gardening, always a

labor of love.