To Plant Again

Sometimes I take a walk to the garden we used to have.

All of us, the kids and everyone, would work together on it.
Getting the spring ground ready, clearing away the winter weeds,
planting seeds, waiting for new plants to come up, irrigating them,
making sure weeds didn’t take over, always talking as we worked.

We would always have a good lunch, it would be like a picnic.
There was always lots of laughing and joking going on I remember.
At their gardens other families also like ours would be nearby.
And we would wave to each other when we and they arrived.

In the 1960’s my sons went into the United States Army. Japan,
Thailand, Puerto Rico. I planted our garden by myself, irrigated,
chopped weeds. Corn, chili, carrots, beets, onions, some cilantro.
Sometimes my grandkids helped, and I’d tell them of years before.

I’m older now these days. These present years are good and bad,
just like they were back then. I feel good about what is possible.
Sometimes I take a walk to the garden we will come to plant again.