This year I cultivate the soil by hand
Use my own back and a hoe and a rake
Instead of my dad’s gas-powered rototiller
To let Creation know that I am serious

Every morning I water what the clouds won’t
And I evict the weeds who squat so quickly
I begin composting kitchen scraps again
Midsummer snacks for adolescent peppers

When a sage plant refuses to grow
And some rosemary only pretends to live
I kindly return them to the dirt

I guide toddling tomato vines up stakes

In the past I’ve tried controlling Nature
But now I only offer suggestions