Lettuce Meditations

by Caroline M. Davies

Sown during half term
these tiny seeds have flourished
unlike the cress
long consigned to the compost heap

I made a careful bed
for them in the greenhouse
on the grimmest day of the year

My wrist gripped in a brace.
My hand unable to write
to tap on a keyboard. Lost in misery
I had no words.

Patting them down, watering
them in and now
the greenhouse border is gorgeous
with their abundance

oak-leaved with a flush
of red on the youngest
leaves. We cut and come again

A harvest of leaves
better than any
poem.