My grandfather was a farmer.
The day before he died
he planted a garden
A garden that nourished his family
through the sunless season of mourning
far into the golden season of harvest.
My grandfather was a farmer.
Before he died
he planted a lifetime of seeds.
Diligently he planted honesty and
reverence;
Inadvertently he planted gentleness and
humor–
Bounty enough to nourish me all the seasons of my life
far into the planting season of my child.
