just from watching her garden?
how does she know
what to plant, when to
rotate, which will come up next?
all summer, and now late September,
always something popping up to delight.
i see her diligent
with her Rototiller
tending, loving, tender-loving.
Subaru, hatch open,
tools ready at the hand.
it is Fall.
all the gardens are drooping, dying
sunflowers surrendered, kale overgrown
chard long past, too high,
no longer gentle for eating.
weeds, straw grass have overtaken sweet harvests
but Mary's garden, full of jewels--
deeps reds, gold bursts and blush globes.
sometimes i think she plants
just for my amusement.
she knows i loiter, linger.
does she think of my attention?
i think this might be love.