i still see his hands
coated in soil 
mud 
dirt
playing god
coaxing seeds to life
bringing his creations to us

maybe that was his love

the calluses from wooden shovels
from making wooden fences
from the circle-purple grapes
the quarter-blueberries
the furry peaches

maybe he loved us
the same way the cat did
secretly perched atop my toddler bed
until dawn danced on my fluttering lids,
leaving before the morning sun
would make stark her black in the light

maybe he loved us
through the water and earth and wind
that fed his garden plants
maybe he loved us 
with the force of sunlight


but we just never knew