you come through the soil and I through the trowel 

love sometimes I through the soil and you 

through the trowel what work is this we do

love together through the centuries

what digging is this that does not finish

we throw around our sweat and laugh            waiting 

for galaxies to fall through our shovels 

onto the dirty sheets of our messy bed 

the days have gone     love all the years too

no end in sight      love this bed has no edges

sometimes the soil

sometimes the trowel 

what garden of stars turns      turns with our toil