Calloused hands
from toiling away
at one’s backyard garden
like a water buffalo
unaffected by the hard work
sweat emanating
under the heat of the sun
because he enjoyed
what he was doing
but at his ripe old age
the calloused hands
became soft
neglected his backyard
let the grass grew
and deep in his heart
he knew
he was not going to taste some of the fruits
but he was happy
for he knew
the next generation
will reap
his labor of love

I’m sharing you another memory I had of my dad.