more than enough

i see her in the yard
on her knees,
those weeds, those endless
weeds,
the clover.
she's into it,
with her gloves her rake
her bags
full of debris.
she likes to dig, to wash
and clean,
scrubbing the deck.
she makes
thing pretty, but
she doesn't have
to.
she's enough. more than
enough. flowers don't
have a chance
around her.