Gardening on Minden
Drive in Yorba Linda, California
The green grass crushed
beneath my jeans as I knelt
and pulled weeds from the ground.
The soft soil, damp and rich,
released the weeds easily,
their delicate roots brushing my
hand.
The sun warmed the back of my neck
and a blue jay hopped nearby,
his bright eyes watching me.
Dirt rained down, shaken from the
roots.
I threw them, limp, in a pile.
My marriage is dead.
