Say Wheelbarrow

and I think Garden;
same as spade or fork or rake.
But here, at the edge of a field,
there must be some mistake.

Before, I've only ever seen
a tractor trail up and down;
a farmer, not a gardener, at the wheel.
A tractor left abandoned
wouldn't make me frown;
a tractor's no big deal.

But I want to watch the barrow;
see it safely collected,
not leave it there, come rain or shine,
neglected.

© Celia Warren 2024


No rain.
No thunder.
No migraine.
And several hours' gardening before my cough kicked in!
Filled four tubs! So a good day!