Passing Over Verrill Farm


No one could starve on this road
the way you would.
Wild grape vines scramble up the trees,
late peas reach over the trellis.
Pumpkins strain at the leash.

And I think about the net of your attention,
how plucking at intersections
with such precision
moves you so freely —
and we are all pins
stuck in the map

Here on this road,
we’ve had too much rain
and the last of the plum tomatoes split
and drop, seeding the soil for the harvest next year.
Like most of us
they root where they fall.


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