Smirking Cucumbers a Poem

I planted my vegetables, for a few
years exactly where I wanted em
to be planted. Said to myself: if I
had to make a living and nothing
grows, no one needs to point
fingers, or be anonymous; so,
its my hoe, my garden, Ill clean
the scraps up, Ive been at that so
long I cant possibly wear my hands
down (so I told myself). All my life
Ive been at it: they lay it down, I
pick it up; weedin with a hoe-blade
isnt easy. You try it, see!

I loaned my land out to a retired
farmer one year, who had little land
to mention, but wanted to grow
something: better than me with a
hoe he wasmade whatever he
planted grow (I never could). He
even used his own water (he lived
across from me, in Alabama back in
77).

As I stoodday after daylooking
out my kitchen window, watching
him plant, and hoe, and water, and
the cucumbers grow, (God knows
what for) He said those vegetables, < br>cucumbers he done planted would
grow fat, and huge, and they did.
He could have shown me a few
things about planting, hoeing and
growing (back then); things I never
thought of, but I just wanted some
of those cucumbers. Funny, when
were young. Now looking back I
can still see that old farmer looking
over his shoulder at me: smirking.

Reflections of youth, when I lived in Alabama, back in l977-l979. #1010 1/28/2006

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Poetry
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