Brenda Kay Ledford

Black dirt sifting
through my fingers,
anchored to my roots.

The thrill of working
with my hands,
tilling the soil.

Gardening.
Cobwebs, clutter dug
from the corners of my mind.

Digging the dirt,
hacking down weeds
that choke tender plants.

Extracting vines that twist
the breath from my body.
Energy radiates the stiff limbs.

Connected to the earth.
digging in the dirt,
an antidote for depression.