Mississippi Gardens
By Stephanie Pruitt

slaves, she answers, as I sink
my fingers beneath the roots.

the knees of that blue housedress are threadbare.
she wears it on Tuesdays and Fridays when we tend the flowers.

pullin’ weeds ain’t a time for talk, she chides.
I watch her uproot the creeping charlie.

the fragrant blossoms we protect, hug our whole house.
sweet peas were my choice.

we rarely buy those things for sale in the gardening aisle.
don’t make sense to work the earth and not feel it.

I wanted those thick cotton gloves, but they stayed on the shelf.
you gotta to learn the difference between dirt and soil.

sometimes I notice how the ground changes.

denser, darker, moister, a little more red in some places.

in social studies class, we learned about crop rotation,

and how it keeps the land fertile.

Mama, what did they used to grow here?

Copyright © Stephanie Pruitt. All rights reserved. Used by permission of the author

Stephanie Pruitt is a writer, educator and arts activist. The Nashvillian was voted 2004 Poet of the Year by SpokenVizions Magazine. She leads a creative writing workshop at Vanderbilt University and co-hosts a social commentary radio talk show. Stephanie is author of Life on Lay-a-Way and I AM: A Poetic Journey Towards Self Definition.

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