DAD’S GARDEN GLOVES

You rest in a small pine box 
In the back of your garage
Frayed fingertips
Soiled grassy green
And earth-stained brown
During spring renewal

Remnants of your work
Continue to thrive
In your small patch of earth
Your living legacy

You served us well
May you dig your slumber

Check out this other poem about my parents.

I would like to hear from you