Given what I see every day
it helps to say
anything  

Today it's raining and the salad's growing,
the day resembles no other
and what will tomorrow be like. 

It won't work, I find myself saying.
Maybe it's just one of those years
but the earth goes deeper

and the sky always brings some gift.  
So important it all is
and constantly changing

and this hurts like hunger
like fleshy stinging nettles at the edge of an allotment
which I cut down with a scythe. 

Given the lavish performance,
the bounteous holiday of seeds and fruits,
I don't do much work. 

That means I do
what needs to be done
so as not to forget what's vital.                       

When we go from here
we'll take
the garden with us.