For love, in ways of planting: seeds,
gloves, a hole just deep enough
to coat the husked tight bodice.
A wary eye kept sleepless, trained
in science, schedules chronicled
and followed; the wakened sprout,
frail green, lengthened threads
a burden on its troubled lover.
Chance, devotion: walking through
a garden, purpled, pulling vines
laddered to a thoughtless sky whose
education- light, a bird, a weeping cloud
and nothing else.