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By jwb71913 Date: 2003 Mar 08 Comment on this Work [[2003.03.08.06.32.30942]] |
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I was told that the fescue would grow in the shade and that zoysia would grow in the sun the ground is hard and rocky, infertile sour from the pines and years of neglect. I hear the sound of birds singing, the song will change as the season approaches The song I hear today will not be heard here soon, the early birds follow the drinkin' gourd With each new song, my heart grows stronger, my pain fades, for the resurrection of spring tugs and pulls, unrelenting, demanding new growth with the warming of the sun. So I trudge out, in faded jeans to begin the task of preparing the ground first the weeds pulled, the soil turned the clay broken and mixed with peat. What am I preparing this bed for, will there be colorful nosegays, fragrant jasmine yellow mums for bright curb appeal, sticky roses to remind me of the peril of love? It is too soon to decide, of course it is not time to plant, it is time to prepare the foundation for a garden of love to sweeten soil and smash hard spots, and smooth And of course the question remains will the bed be fertile enough to let life take hold will it be tended well enough for growth will I ever know? Let the sun shine, let the rain fall, let life continue |