Despite this week’s cold snap, we have all been outside thinking about our gardens, worrying about those fruit trees, and glancing at the tangled hose half buried under the brown leaves out back. Welcome to spring! “Avoid bunnies,” adds the poet.
Merimee Moffitt lives in Albuquerque’s Nob Hill.
You Call (for Ness)
Excited to grow something
from soil and seed, your voice pleads
to see snap dragons multiply and
tomato seeds divide to feed the
multitudes you and your child
You call and ask regarding technique
how to? from a hard-scrabble patch to edible
lush, to a portable gurgling mess
tangled greens can’t be so bad, I want them
you insist. Foliage???
desert-defying rebellious roots
succulent zukes, cukes
volunteer melons, how to?
I mother you toward shovel and gloves
a big hat half the endeavor
add water, a little, contained, restrained
forget for a while what hasn’t succeeded
what didn’t survive
snip chives and chard, graze on peas
spinach right from your yard
rows or patches, squares, pots with holes
on wheels or wagons, bottomless boxes
a riot of flowers even trees might thrive
They will remind you to water at least once
in a while, please, lots, at first, a terrible thirst
when transplanted, shocked, just birthed
heed not drought, consider the shade
no wasting sun or time shining on
Be the Goddess
in your tiny queen-dom paradise
not so much at once, think: workable, combed
manicured, top soiled and mulched
a trip to the nursery enflames the
desire: the goods? to eat, munch
savor crunch blend or juice live food
Beware: backyard farmers begin to want a chickens
hens give easy for a family of three, a coop
maybe next year
watch the water, watch it fulfill and
flower to delight you and your daughter
ps Avoid bunnies. Remember Peter Rabbit?
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