today the soil is cold
my hands soak in the dirt and the chill
peas must be planted
their roots the lovers of the frigid ground
transplanted before they become tangled
or bound in their pots
my bare hands grow stiff and weak
today I will work with stone
wear gloves and carry each one
to its place at the edge of the garden
Most of the time when I am gardening I don’t wear gloves.
I like to feel the earth, break the clods, pluck the weeds,
plant the seeds.