Amends
by Jessica Gigot
It is hard to hold a homegrown
head of broccoli in your hand
and not feel proud.
Seed to start,
seedling to robust stalk and floret,
I cradle this broccoli like my first born.
The infant I protected from damping-off,
aphids, club root, and pesky flea beetles
dotting up all the leaves.
The green gleams and sparkles.
In that one hour on that one day
I made amends with the earth.
Other times, I buy the shipped-in stuff,
California’s wellspring
Touched by a thousand hands
and automated sanitation.
Sweat makes this one something special—
the give and take of it all,
my muddied pride.
PHOTO: Broccoli garden. Photo by Marina Helena Muller on Unsplash.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I wrote this poem after working in the garden last summer, feeling proud of what I had grown and also overwhelmed by how vast and harmful our food systems has become over the past several decades. Chef Alice Waters wrote, “Finding the beauty in food can change your life,” and I believe that appreciating the poetics of food and the work of growing food will lead us towards farms that are more ecological and in balance with the earth.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Jessica Gigot is a poet, farmer, and wellness coach. She lives on a small sheep farm in the Skagit Valley. Her second book of poems, Feeding Hour (Wandering Aengus Press, 2020) won a Nautilus Award and was a finalist for the 2021 Washington State Book Award. Jessica’s writing and reviews appear in several publications, including Orion, Taproot, and Poetry Northwest, and she is currently a poetry editor for The Hopper. Her memoir, A Little Bit of Land, will be published by Oregon State University Press in 2022.
“the muddied pride”. Yes to content and form. Smiling.
I love this. Every word, from the title to the end is so perfectly chosen. Love it!