swine 2022 issue 02 – spirit

Page 44

we sow seeds in the cracks of the pavement Eli Rooke

He sat cross-legged in the garden and whispered to the flowers. On the days of gentle breezes, they whispered back. He found confidants in the snails and butterflies that carried the secrets of his crushes in their souls. They were the most trustworthy of creatures, he had decided. He was just a boy, some said, not understanding that boy was all he had to be. He never searched for four-leaf clovers when every three-leaved one he felt under his bare feet was lucky enough. He grew, and the flowers bloomed because of him. In autumn, I took my clothes off the line to avoid the evening rain. I traded a clothes peg with a magpie and she sang for me. Her tale of a moving home, and all the gardens that embraced her, welcomed the warm rain. With it, the grass dewed, my socks dampened, and the weeds stretched in thanks. As I hurried inside, I realised I had never paid them much mind before. I began calling them wildflowers, and my lawnmower fell into disuse. 44