so we decided to take down the garden
for years after she died
my brother and I continued to meet
four times a year on the farm
clearing away brush, weeds and dead snails
my mothers hands on both of our minds
shoveling manure to spread evenly over
the deliberate rows of lettuce, squash and pumpkin
singing aloud to the cherry trees and grapevines
her voice is a witching song
every season it lulls me back to the forest
pulls life from seeming cold stems
making black gold from blackberry vines
that grow rich on the side of the fence
my brother watches me out of the corner of his eyes
struggling with the weight of the tree trunks
crying as the songs do not come
his hand is warm over mine as he takes the axe from me
and lays it down, next to the husk this apple tree has become
overgrown and unkempt.
Prompt: Take the phrase “So we decided to (blank)” and fill in the blank. Make that your title and write a poem.
**this is a future casting. my mother is alive and kicking it in her garden.