TIMING
by Beth Konkoski
I am not good soil for anything
these days. And I remember reading
that seeds must not be planted within
two weeks of a waxing moon or they will
tunnel away and rot. What nonsense,
common sense, sixth sense gives us such beliefs?
Never plant on the thirty-first
of any month, do not wear white
after Labor Day and water pansies
only at six a.m. If you wake
at six ten, leave them dry I suppose,
since timing it seems is everything.
Trees cut or laundry hung to dry
will fester in a waxing moon,
but it’s good luck to weed, mow, harvest
and kill pests in that same fourth quarter.
What hidden pulse beneath bedrock and soil
aligns us like lovers with the moon?
What we observe becomes what we believe.
What we believe becomes what we pass on.
Such timing may not be everything,
but it may be one thing or some thing.
It probably isn’t nothing.
Perhaps in the next moon, if I work
out the timing I will not send
everything scattering out before
me, out of reach, out of time,
without nourishment or a plan.
Gyroscope Review - page 45
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