June resembles February. Winter replaced spring. The string bean sprouts have died from too much rain and too little sun. The cantaloupe seeds and pumpkin starts rotted in their mounds of wet soil. The tomatoes drowned and now lean against their cages. The garden is disaster. Only the weeds have thrived, their obstinance and endurance sustaining them. I pluck them out one by one and till the soil again.
I wait for dry and warm.
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