growing season


every morning, i pass the shell of an old bike helmet, hung over the steps that lead outside. in it, i've placed two halved potatoes, the cut sides dusted with cornstarch. i whisper encouragement to them. thank you for working hard, please do your best, i appreciate your tries. some days, i peek in, and still feel anxious that they haven't sprouted tentative exploratory tendrils yet.

i never thought of myself as having a green thumb, but often things grow when i ask them to. sometimes, they die; a succulent withered under my care because i couldn't figure out what it needed, while countless leafy greens i hoped to eat were eaten into submission by cabbage worms i couldn't defeat. the worms need food, too.

15 May 2018 22:51


valid?