spring has created its usual riot
and i'm about to miss it
taking care of the soul is a hands on job and i'm so weedy,
overgrown and brambly with thinking
some days i'm half-starved for wonder
its well past time to be digging around, poeming, watering
all the brownish looking things inside...
hoping yet to scratch up green on a deadish stick...
looks promising... will have to work at it. risk sweating.
getting my heart all muddy.
come love. bring your spade.
