Under the Curved Glass

I squeezed behind the weathered legs of the potting bench where the moss grows thickest against the brick wall. Half-buried in the damp green carpet lay a small, clear glass jar resting on its side. Leaning both hands against the cool rim, I peered through the curved glass belly. Sheltered from the afternoon breeze, two tiny clover sprouts were growing right inside the hollow chamber, their leaves pressed gently against the glass like green paper cutouts. I stepped back, gathered a dry, curled oak leaf from the damp mulch, and carefully wedged it over the threaded opening to keep the soft moisture tucked inside.