Amateur Gardener: A Poem

Amateur Gardener

I will have to decide from among the violets,

which have gone asking for their rights; begging.

I will have to decide from among the too many

seeds.

There are

bright leaves on every stem, tiny paddles of green,

knots in the wet inch above the soil,
the husk of a cicada's song, a worm forlorn

in the shadow of a hawk.

The promise of rescue.