The garden under snow
Remembers how it felt To have things growing. It still recalls the nudge Of roots that edged down To find the water remains Of last year's snow. It can still feel the parting Of tiny bits of soil As seeds split and started A slow climb to unseen sun. It can remember the multiple Pregnancies of swelling things: Potato with visions That exceed its eyes, Carrot, a Doric column of growth, Onion, a concentric circle Of underground optimism.