Lettuce didn’t have to be beautiful.

It didn’t have to poke up from the earth

curled at the edges like a flamenco dancer’s skirt.

 

Did you ever wonder how something brilliant green

emerges from water, sunshine, and dirt?

 

Have you ever contemplated the volume

of detail packaged in a single, insignificant seed?

Instructions for a showy leaf in that mysterious purple-green–

curly and elegant enough for white tablecloths and bowties,

or one flat and peppery–bistro ready.

 

Did you ever wonder?

Ever contemplate a salad?

 

I walked in the garden this morning.

At noon, my fork played with lettuce,

and I gave thanks.

Truly gave thanks.

It didn’t have to be beautiful,

but it is.