Growing
Grant giggles in the garden As he grabs the hose and sprays But the peas get no more water Than his shorts, his shirt, my face
Then we’re back to pick more berries As the sun sears noon-day high But all too soon dad’s motorbike Roars in for our goodbye
We spent the morning watering Between the times we picked While taking pictures, stalking rats And poking bugs with sticks
The purple-spotted beans poked In cool soil two months ago Are taller now than he has grown A crimson spray aglow
I think of forty years ago In granny’s big back yard Of dipping rhubarb in a cup Brown sugar, packed in hard I see the reds of raspberries In cool dawning sun Amid refreshing greenery And spider-webs just spun
Today we dipped our strawberries In sugar-sweetened cream It’s barely June There’s so much more I’ll teach young Grant to dream
Grant hasn’t seen zucchini sprout Bright yellow or dark green He hasn’t watched an eggplant grow To gain its purple sheen
Potatoes, blue-fleshed, grown in pots Nor cukes along a vine Grapes - or tomatoes – trellised tall Pink, striped, or yellow kinds
I get to live my life anew In wonders he’s not seen This gift of sharing growth with Grant Perched on a big ravine
Varietals so new to him Like Mammoth Melting Peas Or Lolla Rossa lettuces With ruffled red-hued leaves Pale mache, bright chard, or radishes (French Breakfast, if you please) Those purple-podded skinny beans That snap to show bright green The Saskatoons: our closest chance At northern blueberries
The name I think he’ll like the most I’ll save until we eat (‘Cause vegetables, from what I’ve learned Turn Grant right off his feed) The kale Collette calls “Dinosaur” With crinkly blue-tinged leaves Should spark imagination more Than sheet-mulch, straw, or bees
I feel I’ve stretched my soul sky-high As Grant rolls my wheel-barrow Between garage and garden plots While generations narrow
From a new book: poems and an essay called Mothers' Garden - raves, rhymes, rants and arrays - on growing food in the middle of a big city, on nurturing self and earth.
Launched March 2008. $15-
Poem and photos (c) copyright 2008, Kyla Z. A. Dixon-Muir, Toronto Canada;
All rights reserved.
contact: cgwebsite (at) sympatico (dot) ca to order Mothers' Garden, or receive permission to reprint this poem. (sorry, address spelled out for anti-spam purposes)
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