I don't know about you guys, but I really like poetry, and I usually read a poem or two before I go to bed. The other night, this poem popped up in my current anthology (Good Poems, compiled by Garrison Keillor), and I thought it was too appropriate not to share here.
I sometimes fear the younger generation will be deprived
of the pleasures of hoeing;
there is no knowing
how many souls have been formed by this simple exercise.
The dry earth like a great scab breaks, revealing
moist-dark loam -
the pea-root's home,