These mesclun seeds,
assorted bibb lettuces,
sown into my potting soil stuffed into egg cartons,
and brussel sprouts put in peat pellets in a little plastic greenhouse,
they spring open like clam shells,
their tongues probing the earth for purchase,
dreaming of standing tall in the sunlight.
They are succored in water and fluorescent and halogen bulbs,
giving them sprouting space to splay small leaves above the surface,
yet top of the heap.
The tomatoes are buried in pots now,
their little stems buried to encourage their roots to grow,
the more space given, the greater they will stretch,
so I dream of a desktop garden:
bonsai tomatoes and cucumbers
baby bell peppers
A sprawling zucchini cascading over the side of it,
my microcosm crawling across my workspace and offering small sacrifices for snacks.