I work in the Greens

Mostly for an assignment for EcoArt, I was planting some things in our garden and the feelings washed over

I work in the greens

Drenched from the heat

Heavy from the weight of it

I only stop to take a drink

To be able to continue without collapse

The smell comes not from me

But from the flowers

The dirt

The torn leaves

Even the air trapped in the greenhouse

It all feels green �"

Musty, hot, heavy, stiff, and enclosed

But so full of life that it is difficult to breathe