“By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread, till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; for you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” –Genesis 3:19
My husband tells me of the garden
he plans to start when we have a yard
again: caged tomato plants, heads
of cabbage, deep-buried potatoes.
He wants to feel what is tangible,
to trade office work for ripe vegetables –
just as our grandparents traded fields
for work in the city, calloused hands
for smooth typewriter keys.
A generation reworking its days,
toward what has been lost.