things are growing

you see her
in the front yard.
bent in the grass
digging. weeding.
planting.
hosing down what
grows.
tools beside
her sandaled feet.
a steel shovel,
a rake,
shears, all shiny
and new.
a large straw
flops down to
her shoulders.
she's wearing next to
nothing. working
on her tan
in a white string bikini.
out on the street
old men hit the curbs
and mailboxes
with their cars
as they slowly roll
past her yard
on their way
to church with their
wives.
it's spring time
once again they whisper
to themselves,
thank god.