The Fallow Year

It was meant to end this spring.
It was left fallow, without any sowing,
and it allowed for recovery, retaining essentials,
disrupting lifecycles of pathogens by removing hosts.

There is hope with any new growth.

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SOME BACKGROUND:
Though I was inspired by a field I saw that had been left fallow – unplanted – last year, the poem is also about the past year of pandemic. We were hopeful that the year of that would come to an end after being fallow. Spring is a hopeful time, but I’m still not sure how much new growth we’ll see this year or what we may be able to harvest at the end of 2021.

Planting Cloves

of garlic in October – a family tradition.
Hardneck ones underground in fall will sprout
in spring after sheltering all winter long.
Not so different from me these days,
with my papery coverings to protect me.

In the last minute of the world

a daylily is opening beside tomorrow’s bud.

A robin tends her two hungry nestlings.

The sun emerges from behind a cloud.

Peppermint, thyme and sage lose their perfume.

Standing outside in pairs, people are crying.