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

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10 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

    Like

    Reply

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