|Photo courtesy of PublicDomainPictures.net|
So is the child slow stooping beside him
picking radishes from the soil.
He straightens up,
his arms full of the green leaves.
She bends low to each bunch and whispers,
Please come out big and red.
Tugs at them gently to give them time to change,
if they are moody and small.
Her arms filled, she paces
beside her grandfather's elderly puppet walk.
I happened to see the picture above while browsing through PublicDomainPictures.net one day, and thought it was a cool photo. A week or so later, I came across this poem by David Ignatow in a book I was reading, and knew I had to put the two together! :) The poem and the picture both remind me of walking in the garden with my grandma when I was little -- I always loved helping her harvest the produce that was ready, and then eating it later that day. There's nothing like food fresh from the garden!