These Summer Mornings - Will Hornyak

[Lawrence Robinson]

These Summer Mornings
 
Before the heat rises
My wife takes her empty bowl
And strolls to the vines of
Ripe raspberries, fat blackberries
Begging to be plucked
By her nimble fingers and
Dropped into
My most appreciative
Waiting mouth.
 
Her dedication
To the garden
Knows no end.
Just last night
Tweezers in hand
She donned her head lamp
And once again
Patrolled leafy lettuce rows
For unsuspecting slugs.
She is happiest
Water jug in hand
Coaxing tender shoots
To life
Or on her knees
Depositing flowered starts
Into some
Perfectly shaped hole
In the dark, waiting earth.

Just a few
Short months ago
This teeming plot--
This happy riot of green, growing
Peas, tomatoes, berries, basil,
Squash, lettuce, beans and
Countless flowers --
Was a palette of
Drab winter earth
And cold spring rain.
 
All praise
For this miracle
Of labor and love
To the Garden Goddess
Who even now
Sprinkles
A handful of blueberries
Upon my heaping bowl
Of granola
And summer’s bounty
Upon this land
And lucky fellow’s heart.
 
 
 	- Will Hornyak