Homies in the Garden

I'm trying to write a poem every day this year. Here's another one about the Garden:


Homies in the Garden
Albert, with the faded and badly
done tattoo under his left eye,
asked today how to grow a peach tree.
Giovanni, so eager to please,
plants spinach in neat rows,
and positively glows
when talking about Sophia,
who just turned one.
Jose, with muscles grown
on a backyard weight set,
turns the compost pile, tells me
he's building his resume.
He tastes sweet peas for the first time,
and smiles like a little boy.