Garden De-stress

Weeds hang on with their roots
and runners underground,
Trying to save a vestige
of potential to shoot.

I don't really want to go
to the garden.
My head is full of problems and schedules
and this makes me tired.

But it's almost sunny
and I'm drawn to the garden
and I sense that things
are ready to grow.

The soil is warm and fluffy or
damp and gluggy in some places.
It smells of organic rotting
and growing, sweet and rank.

I get a spade and mix it,
breaking up the clumps.
I can imagine the nutrients
and life embedded in it.

I chase the runners and try
to pull out the weeds.