the garden

tightly sown in need of thinning
chard    radishes     lettuce
i pick the largest leafs
the ones with holes
from larvae or mature bugs

i rescue the very young     too
the tender shoots
I don’t want them to get
too big     too old    too bitter
I bend at the waist
because the knees don’t bend
without pain     nothing works
without pain    i think of correlations
am I bitter because I am old
bitter because of all the parasites
eating away at my id    am i bitter

are my skin tags the same
as petrified gnarls on trees
are my moles and brown spots
like rust and knots
fingers cramp when i tug at weeds
that hang to the soil with tenacity
i think about a childhood poem
a brother from another father
used to taunt and tease
cathy cathy abernathy
how does your garden grow
with tinker toys and little boys
all in one straight row

i think about the garden
how things grow differently
tastes    colors   uses    breeds
the demons that lurk in wait
the snakes  the birds   the bees
the laws that keep the balance
of nature   survival   fit   fast
i think about humanity and laws
i wonder if nature will survive man
and if man will survive man