When bygone days of winter pass and snow is off the ground,
I tend to think of planting things, and wait without a sound,
There’s nothing like new life I think, while pushing through dead leaves,
The natural mulch has molded some and makes me want to sneeze.
Still there is something calling me, to dig and plant and wait,
I can’t describe what’s stirring me, it just makes me feel great.
So onward, ever onward now, to find a nursery,
With COVID cash I’m going to shop, I might just buy a tree.
Then suddenly it hits me , I don’t do manual labor,
I’ll just bake some cookies for our husky next door neighbor,
But he just moved a month ago, so I am up a creek,
I best forget the gardening until my bones don’t squeak.