Weeding With My Mother – poem

Weeding With My Mother


I learned to weed a garden

    squatting next to my mother


Once I began to learn what was wanted

    and what was unwanted

The rest was easy


Bend down


Get my hands dirty


Smell the earth


Look carefully


Make clean spaces


    Talk softly.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Dedicated with Love and Memory to Helen Constance Smith Dunn ~ 1912-1980 / Until we meet again.


© Jessan Dunn Otis, June 30, 2018


11 thoughts on “Weeding With My Mother – poem

  1. Penelope Tsaldari

    I so enjoyed this. Took me back to my childhood when I would walk in the vinyards with my grandmama. My favorite was the day after a good rain… only then could I smell the soil. I pictured your little hands digging. It was so beautiful and I thank you for sharing. Hugs M



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