After two years
of additions
and relentless work,
just now turned
by shovel and
again by tiller,
this loose earth
slips through
my warm hands
soft as a willing
woman's belly
wanting only spring
to arrive, to penetrate,
to enter with soft seed
planted deeply,
before the quickening,
before the ripening,
before the bursting
forth into abundance
and delight.


  ~mce