Nothing fancy.
Just peas, sweet corn and carrots.
Mother bought them from the
freezer aisle
while I lingered hopefully
by the ice cream bars.
At home, I helped her unload
the groceries, striving to impress
her by carrying the bulkiest bags.
Take it easy, she said. That’s heavy.

When I had a morning headache
she laid me down on her queen-sized bed
placed a bag of frozen peas on my forehead
and let me sleep five more minutes.
Then she said, It’s time to go to school.

Not long ago
she helped me plant a vegetable garden.
Nothing fancy,
just peas, sweet corn and carrots.
Give it time, she says,
kissing my troubled forehead
as I crouch by the garden,
searching for sprouts.
It will grow.