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.


Radish King said...

Peter, this fills me with such sweet longing!

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

jenni said...

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