She is hoeing down into the garden
and I stop to watch her.
I am raking leaves with a small child’s rake
that only comes up to my knees
because I broke the other one
last Spring.
I think we’re an old couple,
I say.
We’re 38, we’re not old,
she laughs.
Struggling to get up off her knees
as I turn the wrong way
and throw out my
back.
