The Shed

Behind the old shed With it's weather worn beams Struggling to stand straight Brave, against hurled January winds Are the things she stored For hints of Spring A shovel, to dig away her past A rake, to clear an unobstructed new path A hose, to water all her dreams A wheelbarrow, to cart away her sorrow Pruning sheers, to shape what needs to thrive Fencing, to keep out predators Bricks and stones, on which to build Composted soil, with minerals, rich Watering can, to catch her tears, recycled A birdhouse, for welcoming stranger's stay Garden spikes, for steadying struggling seedlings Stacked against the slanted side Tucked into bundles that shout 'Useful' For now, the sunlight's fingers pry Into the pile, like a child, at Christmas Racing to open what they cannot wait to receive Behind the old shed, familiar tools Needed and necessary for these unfamiliar days.