Sitting out back, admiring the garden
planted just a month ago, tomatoes
over-spilling frames, their branches laden,
blossoms heralding even more new growth.

Did what was necessary: worked the loam,
cleaved a path for steady afternoon light,
gave burrowing roots a wide berth to roam,
hauled out the hose and watered every night.

Now I must sow patience and step aside
let nature own the show — you know it’s true –
dig a hole in which to bury my pride,
let the gifts ripen, don’t pick them too soon.

Give mother sun, sister moon, their just due,
appreciate beginnings — endings, too.

* * *

Thank you LexPoMo family for the generous comments and close-readings of my poems. They weren’t all winners, but there are a few that I think could turn out to be keepers. This community means a great deal to me: I learn so much from you all. ‘Til next year!