Hoe
Fallen from a box of pottery
Ridiculous freebie
From the tip of my finger to
The curve of my palm
I scoffed
Bound with your sister rake
A seedling tool and thin tweezer
What am I?
A farmer of houseplants, no
Moving from dead and shriveled
To verdant plump
Unexpected blooms like fireworks
Pale chartreuse, soft grey greens, emeralds
Lining every window sill
I reach for tools
Learning how to grow
Moving from pot to pot
Water pools on mismatched saucers
Translucent windows, savage spikes
Strings of things
Lifted planted repotted
Sand through my unsure fingers flow
You are always at hand
A part of my daily
Tucked in my overalls
Stashed in my back pocket
Stoic sansverias, a bashful fern, begonias wink
I am a farmer
Stillness is a crop, quiet I sow
Hoe
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