Weeding

The rocks under my knees

keep me grounded

as I pull up grass

and weeds

that have grown

between the cucumbers

and green beans.

I really need to weed

the zucchini,

I mutter

under my breath.

Still pulling.

Still yanking.

Observing exactly

what I am uprooting

from the earth.

I can’t help

but feel empathy

for those plants

I hurt.