I watch you through the curtains
filling the watering can
bending to pick off a rogue stem
and for no reason I can explain
my heart is filled with tenderness for you,
loving seeing you loving what you do.
I suppose the innocence you project
must come from your being unaware
that you are observed
your face not set for anyone but yourself
no need to smile to appease.
This seems to be you.
It makes me feel good to realize
that I feel happy to see you in this way
because I know that if you don’t love someone
then their toil in the garden
would seem nothing more than
mere toil in the garden.