Wiggle wiggle goes the free one. Announcer requests round of applause, audience delivers. Trumpet plays the difference. Not tellin’ ya — just saying. The voice of the night speaks by sampling many stations. Let us begin to plot our garden, heartened by the sight of daffodils. Plant rosemary and basil. Add rue and hyssop.
A neighbor with a chainsaw helps me remove a fallen tree. He relays the yard’s history, helps us decipher the boundaries of a garden, one he tended in years past. He’s a contractor. A worker who works with him brought music and, with a wheelbarrow, lent a hand removing the tree. To both the worker and the neighbor, I am thankful. Yellow daffodils sprout around the house and in the yard. I imagine plucking a sprout of onion grass and eating it as seasoning atop a baked potato. This I do.