a cross-legged man

i saw a man, cross-legged, sitting
by my garden gate, and wondered
why he'd thrown his shoes

why they lay all tumbled near
my radishes, near my radicchio
strange weeds in a garden proper

why i'd let them root, give
disharmony, let them try
their unsubtle nature on my figs

then, curiously, he tugged, twisted
fell up, off, socks cross-woven
baring toes, pummeled me with disbelief

there, and there, they lay, giving
discredit to my oregano, disfavor to
my cumquats, distraction to my peonies

would I water them with my night
time seedings, guarantee their organic
nature to my thistle laden lilies

i had no extra breathing for this
cross-legged man, this cross-pollination
into my perfect fecund flowered heart