I always leave part of my heart in my garden as the yellow leaves drift slowly down, followed by the snow. My summer heart hibernates there, with the bulbs and the frogs, below the frost line. I don’t have the heart to clear all the leaves away, it’s too like wiping the tears of the tree.
I prefer to leave them where they fall in the flower beds, fertilizer and insulation against the winter’s fury. On the grass, I rake them all into a big pile, and let the kids jump in. We toss up the leaves in fistfuls, and they fall in our hair. We make leaf angels, before we bag them all.
My summer heart is there still in my garden, slumbering, under the snow forts, the snowmen and beyond the snow angel farms. Wrapped closely with leaves, dreaming of sunshine and warm days.
first green shoots
split the soil apart
my heart leaps out
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Inspired by the Tuesday Haibun Thinking: Week 3.