Sleeping Garden

The Birdbath frozen with a mushroom cap of snow.
The old barbed wire sagging from many a heifer leaning
upon it, many a child climbing on it,
The pines standing tall, their bows giving shelter
to wildlife; deer, bald eagles, red tail hawks and more
The garden sleeps under her blanket of snow,
a poor mans fertilizer,
the chicken coop is quiet, the girlies hanging
out under their heat lamp, waiting for a thaw
to run further than their run,
I stand at the window, taking it all in,
I too wait for the thaw, to smell the spring,
to feel the damp earth crumbling between my fingers
waiting to be loosed and planted to bring forth
another her spring and summer wealth. Sunshine in
my harvest basket.
The garden sleeps, waiting for her tender to tend,
patiently she slumbers on, readying herself for
another year to be a blessing, to give back.
The seed catalogs have been arriving in stacks,
a diversion from the temperature outside,
planning, noting, drawing in detail where each
precious seed will go,
but for now the garden sleeps