SIGN IS IN THE HEAD

-for Jack, my Papaw

A million seeds arrived from Florida today.

Last week, peat moss was trucked in from

Canada and was stacked at both ends of

the prepped greenhouses.Weeds chopped,

poison set out for mice, little seed thieves.

No more smoking, tobacco causes disease

for the young seedlings that’ll pop up once

the heaters make it nice and toasty inside.

He shows me the stipple board and vacuum

that will drop the tiny seeds into plastic trays.

Orange Kubota tractors with water and hoses

are ready to go, but we won’t be planting yet.

In his kitchen he drinks coffee at the counter

and points to a tall, fancy clock in the corner.

The stoic face of Moon Man rises on the dial.

If you want them plants to grow right, then

you have to wait for the sign to be in the head.

After so many generations, he still followed the

Cherokee way of waiting for a full moon to plant.