I walk out into this morning’s cool
to water the tomatoes in the huge planter,
notice the few spider webs
silver with dew in the grass
out past the patio.
I know that my shoes will be soaked
in the short walk to the horse pen
but I head over while the bucket
fills slowly from the spigot by the garage.
I rub the gelding’s head for a moment
but he is not interested in being petted
at this particular time.
I climb back over the fence,
see sand stuck to the wet of my shoes;
it is gone by the time I cross the lawn again.
I finish filling the bucket,
water the tomatoes,
the hibiscus and purple-heart,
a few other planters
that Randa started a month ago.
We know that some beauty
comes with duty in the hot months,
that things held close
sometimes take the most caring,
that sharing tasks
should not always rely on reason of being asked,
and that appreciation is always in season.