Poetry
Early Garden
The garden I planted at thirteen,
cherry and plum tomatoes,
secret carrots, cucumbers,
poled string beans and corn,
still weeds me.
Early mornings, before cockcrow,
before an adult knife was out,
I ran across dewy fields,
hoping to see moon growth,
bean blossoms opening,
looked forward to hard hoeing.
I will spend always
learning green,
being cultivated.
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