Party Line

large terracotta pots lined up in a row sitting on six old unused green chairs

having a tea party

joined with more pots and what nots

gathered all in a pushed together spot

satisfaction for the time being

spaces for more to grow so off I go

look around

why not, time to eat

rooted thought

swinging metal gate with latch, long walk, hen house patch

sloping hill, lowland rows

warmer days and cold snap nights

Dad

coldframe of boards and window frames

cabbages, tomatoes tucked away

stepping along the seeded row, gently sliding a soft covering and a firmer press

to wait

for sun and rain

in time

out demanded out

 to get the ruddy beans

 so many

ruddy

 beans

Mom

onions by the handful, braided up

tomatoes filled the wagons, carrot mounds dumped on grass

washed, scraped, sliced , blanched

most of it frozen

canning

gleaning

the last of everything

squash, pumpkins, green tomatoes

all of it

every scrap before the final frost and freeze

first snow on the field and pinetree boughs

barn light on at night

henhouse dark and latched up tight

oven on

 remembered, rooted

thoughts

among the pots

so off I go

a party still

connection

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