Sometime you might
wonder whether you'll do anything
right.
Then you'll be in your
garden, eating peas from
dying vines
while bees and wasps
nectar at buckwheat
and the almost-weed borage,
the smell of garlic scapes
mingling with the
sweetness of peas,
and "right" will be
less important
than "now" and "good enough".
I love this poem!
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