Knuckles at the Knees
cold hands press —
a root shatters the soil
and the work is wasted
Gardening in winter seems like something of an oxymoron, but it has to be done. Pulling out the dead, making the best of the living, keeping the soil clean for the coming spring; it hurts to do. It’s planting without planting, toiling without tilling.
It’s also hell on my hands, and the cold makes me feel like a bare skeleton wandering in the wind.