A Gardeners Fall

[wasellajam]

Hi, Bunx!!!xo This is a good read, some notes:

A Gardeners Fall

I spend the day
kneeling on grass.
Bruised knuckles make her wonder
why I'm covered in dirt.
While I like the sonics of kneeling/knuckles it brings some confusion, the move from knees to hands and why the bruised knuckles would make her wonder, seems to me the bruised knuckles would help her understand why the N is covered in dirt. Maybe some tweak here.

Something feels nice about it.
Going hours with a single thought,
spotting weeds that don't belong
around flowers raised by thorns.
Love this zeroing in on the real joy of gardening, makes me miss it.

Cuts on my hand hide old scars
from memories camouflaged
in a past I wish I could celebrate.
Trauma feels like a stone to shovel.
"Memories" could be replaced with something more specific. As is I think a comma after memories would help, the cuts are camouflaged? I like the trauma line.

Picking rocks with my hands
then digging away the soil.
Sweat on sunned skin
with knees on cement. 
Cement changed my image of the N working in a garden, maybe if it was moved up I would have better understood the kneeling but the knuckles being bruised.

Then I think
it's not me I lament.
Interesting lines, lamenting oneself.

Sometimes it's takes pruning a rose.
Planting new flowers after digging up stones.
Trees knocking off your favorite hat. My favorite line, says so much.
Laughing with an old friend.

Be open to letting pain degrade in soil,
hoping for the best next season.
Possibly:
Pain (or past lives or something ) degrades in soil
then something evoking spring, or the hopeful result of work done.

Thanks for posting, Bunx, worth working on. Thanks for the read!