Water

the earth rises up dusty full of grime
no rain fell for seven fortnights and a day
where once was lush green now it festers brown
plants begin to shrivel and root hairs start to fade

without a sprinkle of water these plants will die
haul out the many hoses front back and side
choose to shower stream cone flat or jet propel
let the faux rain begin to douse them everyday

see the flower lift their heads
leaves turn plump and green
tender stems move upward once again

send more moisture says soil soaked again
plants say another day of sunshine we can’t stand
now keep us growing with your mercy and your rain

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dVerse prompt on sonnet in free meter

Water

Condition of the Soil

I have been away one year short of a decade.  There is lots of gardening to do.  It is not that a man can’t tend the garden.  Yes, men can mow, turn the soil, weed whack, uproot the invasive blackberry, chop up the fallen trees and fill the wood shed.  In a little corner plant some vegetables and prune the fruit trees.

 

My touch calms the plants, brings nourishment and mulch to their roots.  Old blooms are removed, dead branches clipped.  I tend to little things.  See a bug before it eats the whole plant.  Build a nursery bed and let seedlings grow.  Know the life cycle of a common weed and notice the small wild dogtooth violet and try to cultivate it.  Go beyond the obvious and hope he remembers.

 

force beyond control

found knee deep in the garden

speak of little things

Condition of the Soil