the back yard

you stare out
into the abyss
of your small back
yard, the thirty
foot square of
dirt and weeds
a stack of ladders
and a shallow
bird feeder.
you immediately
reject the idea
that it's a
reflection of
your own life,
or has any
significant meaning
other than that
you lack a green
thumb and have
a lazy bone when
it comes to digging
on your knees
in soil trying
make a tomato or
a petunia rise
from a buried seed.