In the gentle light of morning
I wade through dew-wet grasses
dragging rake and trowel and clippers
over footstep-flattened passes
Across the frontier of my yard
I daringly pioneer forth,
scout out legions of garden pests
invading roses from the north
I forget awhile those challenges
that make me doubt my worth,
I kneel down on the rock hard ground,
change horizons with spades of earth
Undefeated by foes of weeds
where there is no strength to prove,
I bring to fruition some small dreams
and move the little mountains I can move
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