Regressive Future (revisited)
stopped worrying about weeds
an age ago, when
tendrils, branches,
clutter of stems rooted,
then flowered, then
bore fruit,
nectar and berries and
leaves and all that
we eat, or life eats
which sprout forth
from yard and garden side
to sustain and fulfill
and show all who watch
that providers, and provided,
can live in harmony
without temptation
of the blade
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I wish I could live like that.
Otherwise, it’d be: “The Garden
that Ate the House”