He rode a bicycle. She rode a unicycle, Taking journeys to the skys sun, He wore blue jeans, She bore boots, Because she just wanted to have fun. He limped every once in awhile, but he jumped right back up. She never guessed him for a minute, for his smile shined his heart right through to show the trust was always cycling.

From a young age they looked smiles in the face and opened their arms to a warm summer heart. For no matter the season, their hands walked together, finding the path from their footsteps leading and walking.

One day, the fields weren’t green, and the sky wasn’t blue. He wondered what was happening to the clouds, they must knew. That his legs were not as strong as he always tried to say. A cane took his place of the bicycle he once knew, but his beard still smell strong of brown summers day. His youth was like a child, a man growing up. But, an infant sat upon his face, trying to see the world for the first time every time he opened his eyes. For while his cane was a disguise, he still saw love in her eyes.

Limping across the brown fields, his fingertips swayed across the pasture, memories of green life bursting from the roots. His feet dragged as he walked, but the ground was still there. He knew that when the wind blew his bangs aside, something was coming. It was not in the smell of summer, it was not in the rocking chair that creaked on the porch, and it was not the orange cat that followed him down his earth. But, it was a sight of windpower that blew him away. Far across the earth, masked in the brown knee high grass, was a machine he used to know. Something familiar, something as bright as his animals, and as faded as loss.

Buckeling down the road came a one-wheeled machine, with no passanger. Riding towards him in the ice cream shop manner it used to, its rusted sides and black torn horn still honked with the life of the past. It’s gears squeaked, but again it’s horn still honked.

Sitting in his farm window, his cane fell to the floor with a thud. What a peculiar thing had just happened. But, the wind blew open the front door, and something was here.

The image of the young girl with boots stood in his front porch, smiling as she used to. He walked right through her, but she still stood jumping as energetic as the past. From this image, he knew what he had to do.

Looking in the window, he saw his youthful face still gleaming back at him. He picked up his cane, and a bag of fertalizer, and made his way to the farm.

As the day waned on, the sky started turning colors, the grass started growing life, and his legs seemed to not hurt as much that day. Sitting in a field of flowers, the unicycle sat right next to him. And it’s horn honked again, with the smiling face he always knew was there.

@ Camile McGregor

3 thoughts on “Gardener

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