There is a bean to be seen
growing in the middle of our lawn,
there by grace of a chipmunk who squirreled
away a pod found in the ground of my garden;
my three sisters garden.
This bean would not be save for
the drought that stopped my lawn mowing,
without which it would have been a has bean.
I’m contemplating what kind of a bean pole
might serve as a lean-to for this lawn tall bean.
Maybe a stick that it can stick to while it rises
in our yard, or maybe a rod, stuck in the sod,
iron graced with the green of bean.
I’m watching this plant with bated breath
as Creator works wonders despite,
or rather because of,