Are we there yet?

I'm not sure, but I'm excited about it, so let's pretend!

The Gardner

Beneath the ancient spigot’s rust filled flow

Adam’s hands are changing from dirt to flesh

As the layers of loam slip from fingers

Covered in calluses, thick as the gloves

He never wears. 

Veins of white scars appear against

Sun stained skin, the final layer of brown

that covers his hands-

Hands full of the strength

that makes the rosebuds bloom.