Prodded the ground

She sifted the earth gently with her fingers, pulling at the roots of the weeds, until every fibre was loosened from underneath. Brushing away the hair from her face, she thought back to the days when her father had shown her how to labour life into the ground. Prodding silently, her thoughts drifted to her long lost love. Oh, how she missed Fauna. Fondly remember Fauna's habit of picking out the youngest, brightest plants for gifts, Flora scattered seeds into the tilled soil.