Dry

The earth is hard and unmoving
And I tread on it lightly
I cannot make a good impression
I'm not enough for frozen ground

My hands get weaker in the winter
The numbness of the wind sets in
I wear the season like a scarf, a weighted blanket
But I wish I had a garden again

This summer past I found my body
While coaxing life up from the dirt
I learned that I could keep it thriving
I saw my hands do something right

And now in this unwelcome hibernation
I turn my face toward the sun
I think of burying my future in a greenhouse
And I wish I had a garden again

In truth the spring could find me barren still
I cannot conjure water in my well through force of will
It's not the winter's fault that I've run dry
There's life here to be found
I guess I'm not enough for frozen ground

So instead I reach for pencils
When I could have held a spade
I plant my seedlings in a notebook
And hope they see the light someday

I know that I am not a gardener
I know that I must wait for rain

And I wish I had a garden again