there are trade-offs

the absolute satisfaction
of getting the near-perfect-looking tomato plants
into the beds whose weeds we recently decimated with grub hoes
and whose entire surface we mulched deep to hold in the moisture and squelch the weeds
reverse skunk is what cynthia calls the black and white cat
(all white with a black stripe down its back)
sometimes seen (mostly by her but once by me) on the northwest edge of the farm
same cat, i think, whose smashed body i bike past through the wind and light
on highway M 

there are trade-offs mica says as she sips
on the sweet grapefruit fizz
about living in a beautiful space
when i say something about the daydream
of such a collaboration

how i haul 3 gallon buckets of water
up from the pond to water the young things
in alyson’s newly formed beds by
scooping the tin can whose bottom is poked with holes
and holding it over each plantling
as the water showers out
like a hundred mini rainstorms one at a time

how i miss the sunset because i’m caught up in the catching up of 
the whole sean-spicer-hiding-in-the-bushes-after-bush-fired-comey scenario
but i do make a point of at least noticing
the different tinges of oranges and golds as they diffuse into the rest of the sky
starting at the horizon


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