I can be me.

I can relax.

I don’t have to pretend to be normal

Or fake happiness.

No plastic smiles stick on my face.

Social skills optional; the tomatoes want water, not conversation.

In the garden

I have no deadlines.

I can slowly pour the water onto the plants

Letting the moisture sink into the soil

Nourishing the plant roots below

and

Encouraging growth above ground.

In the garden

I can hold entire conversations in my head

No one need know what I’m thinking

Indeed, the talk is quite dull to most.

In the garden, my thoughts are my own

Until I decide to share them, if I share them at all.

A small plot of ground,

My garden is my retreat.

When I need a break.