Thursday, February 10, 2005

Lettuce Weather

Lettuce Weather

We scratch a tiny furrow with a stick,
pinch in our favorite mesclun mix,
drizzle in clear water from a hose, then
lightly pat the soil with bare palms.
Such springy ritual, showing faith in
a world returning to life. Forsythia
branches cast yellow petals. Two blue jays
scrummage in the white lilac for twigs.
Our elderly neighbor feels spry enough
to climb a ladder and wash her windows
(we rush over to help!) while her grandson
wheels out his motorbike for ride. Yes,
that vacant lot up the street’s for sale again.

2 comments:

Radish King said...

Peter, this fills me with such sweet longing!

p.s. Got the tix, thank you, see you Wednesday!
xoxor

jenni said...

ahh, i love spring. very nice poem. i can't wait for spring!