there’s pleasure to be found
in bare feet and plowed ground.
pleasure in planting myself
between the rows
with my hips set wife
and sinking into the garden
and fully expecting to get dirty.
i start to sweating,

saltwater trickling over the curves
and crevices of my body
to season the soil
and the green beans. 
i know how to handle a hoe

like a weapon.
wielding it against weeds
and copperheads alike.
snakes lose their heads
in my holler Eden.