A farmer’s market find-
At home, I liberate the herb
From its plastic confinement
My fingers eternally eager
For the lush sculpt of soil                              
The tangle of root and pulse                               
As I transport it to a larger pot
Its spirit soft and savory  

If only the homophone
Were as simple to manage   
If only I could take that time
Within my hands and shape it
To these hungered wants  

Once more
Looking into someone’s eyes without a Zoom lens
Hugging friends gathered around a meal
At her bedside soothing the faded hand          
Kissing his shoulder on a summer morning
In the midst of whippoorwills igniting the stars
Cherishing the baby burbling in my arms
Your laugh in the cave we discovered
Sharing moonlight before he went to war  

But life moves on      as it should
As it must  

I brush the earth off my fingers
Thank herb and moment
And head into the day