Thursday, April 26, 2007


by John Updike

I sometimes fear the younger generation will be deprived
of the pleasures of hoeling;
there is no knowing
how many souls have been formed by this simple exercise.

The dry earth like a great scab breaks, revealing
mosit-dark loam-
the pea-root's home,
a fertile wound perpetually healing.

How neatly the green weeds go under!
The blade chops the earth new.
Ignorant is the wise boy who
has never performed this simple, stupid, and useful wonder.

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