VACANT LOT ~ a 2nd Tribute to the urban farm

A sure footed approach makes it down intact

Most are hunched and pulling at the ground

In the garden

He takes their hands and brings them to their knees

For these kids... that's a steep plunge

You could say, he's somewhat of a

Messianic farmer

Recruiting young disciples for his outdoor hearth

Taking their rage under his wing

Sanctifying it

Stirring it's heat into a ground of  true and forgotten wealth

The soul of another Vacant Lot revived

Made holy for a while

Trust-timed to explode abundance

It's hard not to notice, how patiently

He's raking in the alfalfa meal, the potassium

How he's developing a knack for

Deterring flea beetles and face to fist contact

This evening, he strolls with a steady stride

Around volatile corners of flare-up kids

Their gunship alleys

Each face reminds him of someone he knew

Each one, not letting him forget

If you asked him how he does it, he might say

"It's like harvesting seed...

You know what to look for...You gather when they're ready...”

Pause

“You pray for good conditions

Long enough to establish roots”