I put out the carrots today
In a patch of brocolli
Pea and lettuce
On ground we are moving from
A house ours yet not ours
Roots for plants
Meant for our tummies
But what if the carrots don’t grow in time
For us to eat and the
Broccoli flowers
For someone else?
Still I sit
On the old broken chair
Surrounded by the tiniest
Most vulnerable
Shoots
I take my flip flops off
And I breathe in the growth
And love them
Wish them health
To thrive
It isn’t about the end result
Food to eat and abundant
Harvest anymore:
Nurturing
Is about
Love
Nwyfre 