What do the tiny squash plants want?
Are they thirsty, dejected, lonely, not
at home? Are they miserable tiny greens?
Are they waiting for cooler weather, more sun,
hotter weather, less sun? Are they tired already
before the harvest time is even here? They do
not speak to me- instead they wither…
p.s. this makes me think of what our
youngest daughter says when she is
frustrated with the outcome, or lack of
outcome, from “things”: it’s your only job
