Did I say I love the field, the flowers, the garden
I tend, and my working hands for tending? Did I
Suggest I love these thoroughly, with single-focus,
Tending not also to the noise of thought, to the
Red rage and roses at once,
Anxious body drifting in and out of its
This is all I have to offer to the world,
It isn’t much: hands that give despite myself. An
Offering of kindness. Pruning and watering.
Noticing what I can.