Melissa Leaf Nelson
Anticipation
I am a tentative gardener, as I am in many areas of my life. My shoulders press against my ears as I dig holes for allium, crocus, and daffodil bulbs. Before placing each bulb, I add a rounded scoop of blood meal, sprinkle it with anxiety and blend it into the soil. Highly acidic, it provides nutrients and energy for new growth and is a natural repellent, keeping deer and rabbits away. But applied too deeply, it will cause root burn.
Days shrink. Winter snows and bitter temperatures cover the yard. The sun rises higher each day and I wait for something to happen. The rains come and weeds emerge, seemingly without effort. My anxiety never stays buried. Kneeling intentionally close, I recognize bumps of slightly disturbed soil and spy the first tips of lanceolate leaves peeping above the ground. Beginnings are fragile like this, and fierce.
dirty fingernails
each day the yellow tulips
grow yellower
About the Author
Melissa Leaf Nelson grew up on a farm in Iowa and earned her first “rejection slip” in second grade. She returned to writing in mid-life to stay centered during a career in social work and healthcare quality. Her work has been published in Modern Haiku, Frogpond, Rosebud, and the Red Moon Press anthology Snow on the Water, among others.