In and Out of the Garden

There was a time
a story time
a time for growing
a lot of time 
spent in his garden.

He could coax quite a few
living things from the earth
or animals into his hands.

I remember his perfect August lunch
of bread and butter
and the thickest ruby slices
of the garden’s watermelon.

I go to the farmers market now
every week and look among
the fruits and vegetables
sometimes the farmers’ hands
hold out a peach or plum
from a few hundred miles
or more away
and his eyes squint
into the morning sun
his weathered hands
cradle the most delicate fruit.

A peach tree
and a garden after his own heart
and gardens keep growing.

Chickens and melons
tomatoes and a grape arbor.
Almond country
and rivers and mountains in the distance
and a glimpse of the past in the distance.

A glimpse of his world
on the sea or on the ranch
there was a time
on evenings ago
of old sepia photos
and endless stories
were there really that many
or did we hear them
over and over
looking for the past?

And meanwhile from the garden
canned food for a rainy day
a rainy world
a secure moment
against a fickle world.

Food from the ground
coax a living thing
into weathered hands
a weathered soul
a life of growing
sowing
and reaping.

And was it gratifying to know
that with your own hands
you had created something
to nourish the ones you love?

I wander through the farmers’ stands
and I see glimpses 
of his fruits
his hands.

A lifetime in those hands
a life of sowing
and gardens
keep growing. 

–Krista Harris