Humming to tomatoes

by Kathi Satchel

It’s hot and sticky in the greenhouse as I
hum to the plants,
hum to amuse myself,
hum as I pinch out suckers to encourage
straight up, no nonsense, growth. The stems stretch
tall, winding, swirling around the suspended wires,
seeking the sun, seeking sustenance. The summer days stretch
blurring into heat haze, with humming my only distraction.

Ah fuck.
I’ve pinched out a top bud.
Again.
Another plant condemned.
Three dead vines
in just one row.
I’m a lousy farm worker
and humming can’t fix that.