If Dirt Could Move Itself

A big pile of dirt and an empty bed of a golf cart.
The dirt has to get from the pile to the bed of the garden cart….

It would be nice if I could smile sweetly, or tilt to one hip, or whisper promises to this pile of dirt to get itself in the bed of the garden cart, and then remove itself again onto my strawberry bed… but it ain’t happening. There’s a shovel in the shed with my name on it.

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