The soybeans are coming up
A surprise that—
I thought them
Too long on the shelf
For a comeback
But no, there they are
Bright green as they push
Bulbous heads up through the soil
And the broccoli, bless them!
Still throwing out tender shoots
Topped with tiny flowerets
Still a serving for two
About once a week
I circle the yard
Bees thrum on onions and mustard
Gone to blossom, making
Wry-tasting honey, I imagine
It’s finally rained enough
For the jasmines to put out leaves
Fresh fodder for army worms
I make a mental note
To get out the Conserve
My hip aches
As I trip over the hose
My stomach slightly upset
From the evenings too much
Cheap whiskey and Coke
Last night I was thinking
About how cruel youth was
To spend itself
So unwisely
This morning
As I make neat coils of the hose
I think about
Keeping on.
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