The calendar says today is good to sow seeds
sweat glistens his back as he bends down
into the moistness at the lip of the earth.
River bears sludge of memory of the high summer
slants into the pores encrusted with dust.
After being sodden with every ounce of light
the leaves tune into a core only the sun can reach
in thumps of energy folding through the membrane.
Distilled by wind at the ascent of the day
the fragrance of jasmines cloys the bees into
a slumber of breeze that carries to his limbs
to the thighs knotted in toil scars of tissue
along the length of the tree to the darkness of roots.
Symbiotic green his veins braid sinews of wetness
as the calcium from bones leach into the soil.