between the toes,
crumbling thick sods of earth
between the fingers,
being in close contact with life
in this patch of garden,
watching a worm that has been reluctantly roused
disappear back beneath the soil,
gently teasing out thin, unwanted wisps of root
from their brown home,
planting seeds to supply vegetables for the kitchen,
the home.
Wind in the hair, lifting and playing,
welcoming the sun when it peeps out from
behind the clouds,
grateful to the rain clouds for holding off
until we have finished for today.
Life does not get more basic,
more elemental,
more tactile than this.
I cannot be more in touch
than when I am gardening barefoot.
© 28 May 2013
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