Jarod Sage

 

     i wanted to start a garden but i

     wasn’t sure how. i got a raised-

     bed  plot and  and  i   got  my

     landlord’s    approval    and    i

     scanned   old   online  tutorials

     and i   told myself     “i need to

     start a garden” and i repeated it

     beneath my  breath  and i let it

     spin around my head and i even

     wrote down the phrase as some

     attempt at putting page to pen.

     i  listened  to  that   album   by

     Haley Heynderickx of the same

     name,  i  let  the  repeat  be  a

     symbol  for taking   care of  me

     for managing   my attention  for

     salvaging  from  this  depression

     what i lost, lost over these years

     and years and years and years

     and    then– never    near– i did

     no    growing   no    feeding  no

     planting  no sowing  no seeding

     merely thinking,  merely  seeing

     ideas   fly   around    my   mind,

     desire seeping — bleeding — but

     somehow  always  incompletely.

     i didn’t  build the  plot it just sat

     in  the  rain  by  a  hummingbird

     feeder never  hung and free soil

     never    flung  across  the   lawn

     floor to store  and to  tend  and

     grow  and rend, no wait for life

     to   seize  its  day  just  a   gift

     certificate for a local plant shop

     lost, my  body  locked across  a

     couch  in  a  cluttered  room, no

     fervent  push to move  but still i

     race with doubt that  i’ll ever do

     the things i always say i want to

     do.