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
Jessan Dunn Otis|Writer 
What the nice words, as the soul in a body
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Thank you, again and as always, Mehmet. Cheers! ~ Jessan
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You have such an interesting brain. What little I know of it!
Thank you for sharing!
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Thank you, Julie. I would say we both have interesting brains; and, extra-ordinary (sic) lives. Let’s keep it all going – yes? #DanceOn…
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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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Thank you, M. A lovely memory of being innocent and loved. Even after a morning dew, the soil is damp and sweet. I’m happy for your sharing, too. #DanceOn… ~ Jessan
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Lovely!
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Thank you, Meia. Wonderful to have had our recent conversation. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do to encourage you and your endeavors. Cheers! ~ Jessan
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Thank you, Meia. She was. 🙂
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Thanks for the follow.
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You’re welcome; and, likewise.
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