dirt under my nails

my morning starts off pulling weeds in squat position.  the tall cilantro brushes against my cheeks, an occasional fly buzzing in my ear.  the green bulbs of tomatoes weigh precariously on tenuous vines.  i feel antsy, wishing they would quickly ripen.  my japanese eggplant's deep purple peeks out from under flat leaves.  ants crawl across my fingers as i pull at clovers and dead lettuce leaves.  i work the dirt and listen for rain.  my little plot of land below my window, circumscribed by a crooked metal fence.

give him some good soil, seeds, and the blessings of mother nature, please.