Followed by robins

robin on stone 2.png

Dig up dandelion tap roots
sunk deep into the flower bed.
Finger-scrape creeping Charlie where it spiderwebs the surface,
Trowel and muscle pull,
excavate, yank, drag up and out
one, two, three feet of tough, white, snaky
quack grass roots.

Tenacious, like bad habits,
weeds persevere.
Old habits smothering life and joy,
as weeds crowd out my flowers.

A rusty-breasted robin follows
as I work my kneeling way across the garden,
digging deep in dark, damp soil.
I remember seagulls following Grandpa as he plowed.
Years and generations of turning the earth,
striving for a better
crop
garden
life.

Even if the weeds win,
today’s work feeds robins.

 

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