There is a farmer in each of us
who loves to see spouts grow.
Joy swells in one’s very soul, as life
climbs from sun and water flow.
Planter boxes line balconies
as sidewalks bustle below.
People escape smoke gray lives
reaping the green they sow.
What drives our fingers to the soil?
planting seeds row on row
I must admit I do not know.
Back to work, grab a hoe!