A Shiny Copper Label

Crossing over my little twig bridge on the stoop, I stepped right into the soft mulch of the flowerbed. Deep breath, Luigi, keep your footing. Half-buried near the roots of a dried hydrangeas bush stood a thin metal garden stake with a weathered copper plate marked 'MINT'. It had tilted sideways into the loam, nearly flat. Murmuring softly to keep my knees steady, I wrapped both gloved hands around the slender iron rod, planted my boots against a flat pebble, and gave a firm, determined heave. It squeaked softly against the gritty soil and stood upright again, catching a bright glint of midday sun.