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My last moonlit August
had a name: Judas.
A farmer,
planting weeds was his specialty.
His last field was so brilliantly cultivated
I cried.
That year he won first place
at the county fair.
He was so proud.
Thought his weeds resembled me
and dedicated his ribbon to my name.
So stirred by his gift,
I grew a few weeds of my own
dedicated to him, of course.
Next year I’ll sow roots
to withstand the coming fire—
my blessed handiwork.
Joy Nettles is a wife and mom of three who currently teaches writing at Belmont University. Writing is her passion, but her ultimate desire is to help those around her appreciate each moment as it comes and live a life of purpose on purpose no matter what each stage of life brings.