Killing the Innocent

The hardest part of gardening for me

is the thinning.

I have planted too many seeds and

in order for some to grow to maturity,
I must remove the rest

from around some chosen seedling

to ensure its survival.

It is the closest I get

to playing an omnipotent being

and I do not like it at all.

I peer at the crowded plants

and arbitrarily choose one survivor

over the others.

I try not to be biased, but I know that

the larger ones have a better chance,

and I know that I shouldn't just select one

because I like the look of it,
that the red varieties are prettier to me

than the plain green kinds
so I must force myself to leave some green ones

for fairness sake
and I must honor diversity and

allow for the survival of not only the red and the green
but the gold as well,

or I shouldn't have planted a salad mix in the first place.

When I have painstakingly thinned each area

so that there is three inches between,
when I know full well that there should be six inches

but I can't bring myself to do that just yet,
I gather up the wilting seedlings

carry their lifeless bodies indoors
try to hose them off in the sink

and attempt to eat them for lunch.

Spitting out wood chips and dirt,

crunching down on an occasional pebble
I figure I deserve it, and that I owe it to them

to ingest their meager substance

since they have taken the trouble to sprout for me

and have done their best to win the contest.

~Andrine de la Rocha

posted 6/17/2011