about the earth and the seasons

written after gardening with the Neighborhood Farm Initiative 

Winter-ready

We tear up the basil and thyme
From their soil homes

And leave holes that catch cold like breath.

After this our handfuls
Of crop-cover seeds spill

From our fingers
As we tuck-in the earth.

Everything here is dead or dying
as it gets winter-ready

Putting itself to bed
With ubiquitous oranges and the scent

Of mums in chilled air.
It will wait more than just one season

To fill with life again;
It will count losses for a few months

And with little prayers
I wish it luck -

Lonely and dark dreams
That will burst one day

With a new joy and light.