Who Does Your Garden Grow
I have....:::glancing at the clock:::......four hours to make the paper's deadline and no new story to tell. So I present to you this month an old post I wrote for a message board I played on ten years ago. It was my first foray into romance via the internet, a long distance relationship...:::knowing it was a far piece to San Francisco::::....that had lasted 15 months and my first heartbreak in sobriety. Almost a year later I was still grieving and wrote this post.
:::pausing mid way down the row of corn...... watching the last of the sun's glow fade from the tree tops that stand on the eastern slope.....looking out across his kitchen garden...smiling softly:::::
I have a garden..::::throwing his arm wide and gazing with tenderness across the lush growth and abundance......smiling at the brightness of the marigolds that dot the small plot with golden and red sown from seed sent him by his friend P-nut...:::::
I would speak of this garden that grows memories as well as groceries.....::::moving through the rows...then squatting down at the red pontiac's......grubbing into the side of the hill and pulling out three new potatoes::::: 17 years ago a long legged country gal and I put in our first garden together. :::sighing:::....she is 15 years gone but still remains. :::cocking head:::....for you see, I have replanted each spring left over potatoes from the summer before. :::holding up the new potatoes:::...which makes these the 17th generation of the seed potatoes that she and I had bought together.
::::wandering on through the garden he touches the seed heads forming on the chives....thinking of BJ and her happiness.....smiling....knowing that a third year of pungent seasoning will grow from the planting of her gift....::::
::::::He leans over to pull a long green pepper from it's plant......biting into it and feeling the sassy hot tang burning along his tongue......:::: and these cayennes......well.....::::wicked grin::::.....there once was a femme bottom from out of Atlanta that chose to dally with me one summer. She liked things hot and spicy so we bought these peppers for my garden. I have dried seed every fall since and grown again our passion each summer a new.
::::stooping to pull a wooly morning glory that has twined itself around a tomato cage.....swallowing hard:::: and these......well.......they are new to my garden this year. Grown from seed dried from a bruised and battered half ripe tomato, pulled from a vine she and I had planted together. She sent from SF three days after she told me not to get on the plane........that she had fallen in love with another in real time. :::mouth quirking into a grimace then quickly back::::: she sent a note you know......"I too have nurtured our garden all summer".......and all winter I held hope steeped in duality, wanting the seeds to sprout forth with the love that once was and yet wanting them to lay fallow to prove she had nurtured nothing but her own self absorption....::::sighing....sweet waters of the heart welling over and watering the roots.......touching the leaves softly.......whispering::::...I still miss you.
Joe::::standing slowly and watching as the western sky fades red to orange to persimmon streaked purpledy clouds......moving back to his corn and the row he must hoe.....knowing he is such a foolish boy:::::
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