My son pretends to plant a garden

He can imagine the dirt

the sun, the water

the passing from today

into tomorrow,

when all his pebbles are suddenly fruit.

He sees the fairies in the clover

and the King of Ants on a toad stool

threatening to invade.

His little hands brings a water can

justly in time,

so the whole world must parade.

He catches lightning bugs, dancing

they will obey him

and light the corner of his room

where angled shadows tend to stray.