It must be that Venus is swiming with Saturn 
through the cornucopia of Capricorn
Here, you say, come here to look at the garden

I think you possess the secret arts
of loamy soil, you know its worth
and what its capable of bringing forth

I know how you fill the garden carts
with magical corn, African squash, dry legumes
and plants whose names I can only presume

In raised beds I’ve seen you grow the starts
that bring to life what’s long been fallow…
I love to watch the flow of the hoe handle

through your horny hands, like a crow
it seems a force that wants to caw and call