Updated: Apr 20, 2021
Awaken old man Winter! Yes we are eating our stored and frozen and canned delights from our garden last summer. Straw and mulched leaves cover raised beds resting. Hoping the garlic I planted around my Ruth Stout Garden turn the vole varmints. Dust back the snow and there are treats hidden below. Collards, kohlrabi and spinach leafs. Rose hips unpicked by me and the birds along in the back woods, nuts abound on the ground un-squirreled. Spring garlic festering dormant ready to pop. Did I harvest all those carrots? Are unfounded potatoes sprouting in my Ruth Stout? Hummmm? I am liking the sub zero freeze though to tame overwintering pesky pests. Looks like a good year’s ahead. A month now and maby start some seeds indoors.
Meanwhile, inside, fireside, feet up in my Barcolounger, a throw and a hot mull cider, I watch the earth-covering snow, knowing nowhere I need to go, toastily dreaming of another Spring, and the beginning of gardening things. As Aunt Rose used to say when I would remind her that she was 103, she would shake her smiling head and say, “Yep! I hope I make it!” I have used her age-wise words in prayer.
Author’s Note: Prose poems are the best. They sneak up on you, and all the rest, engross you in mid-read, and halfway in, you must go back and re-read again! Isn’t this fun? You thought I was done. Nope. Adding editing is just begun. I added it just now, after you-were done. Sometimes a poem is never dun. Has anyone noticed, edits added later on, to my poetic prose and song, after y’all ’ave read and gone😉
If you leave a like, a comment, ”like” or two, you might notice when you’re away, I’ve left you back, a like or comment too. So, WAIT! Come back, take the time to scroll, on down, pursue around, Hidden found, you might surly find an idea, poem or sound, bound up in a secret place or phrase, just meant for you, you least expect, just for you, for now, I dare you, search around the entire sight and such, And touch, you might find, “I didn’t know that was there, that was mine”❤️