my father knelt
and picked weeds
like they were flowers of their own
entombed in his costco compost bin
to come back as soil
laid to rest in the garden bed
harvest was bitter
but tomatoes sweet
he was the sun in summers
he gave the plants everything
water
fertilizer
worms
insurance benefits
eggshells
tiny hats to shelter them from rain
and the plants were everything
to him
autumn fell and life wilted
in winter, both were ice
it melts again, every year
and every summer, he was the sun
