Method

In the dirt you dig fragments.
Turn them and ponder.

Weed chard. Forms
morph like clouds.

At lunch, you write down
how in this jungle

a gem-backed toad startled
and hopped away—

how June tiger lilies trumpet the sun.
In the bean patch brown spiders,

egg sacs on their backs.
Toddling through shadows,

sturdy, wobbling,
fragile, pregnant as summer is—