community garden

at the final bow of summer, a village comes together

to celebrate abundance from the work of many hands:

in this shared garden, the butterfly hands of children

explore each tomato like a new world, 

fluttering over and around great-grandparent hands --

spotted chestnut stumps sprouting new hope

in impish mockery of dignified decline

pale hands, dark hands, hard hands soft:

all hands have a place and a purpose

in the hierarchy of the harvest.

more than a garden, 

this carefully tended patchwork plot

is a message to a careworn world:

welcome.

this community grows vegetables.

this community feeds souls.

Rich Follett, August 2018