THE SWEET SMELL

It is a year of abundances. Frogs showing up

in swimming pools, lawns flooded with maple keys, poppies

we planted three years ago finally deciding

to show six of their heads. The farmer is promising

strawberries for next week and has brought some to prove it.

I vow to wake up early, to read more about ants,

their function in the life cycle of pink peonies.

I know it will be a lesson in mutualism,

in coevolution. But I don’t have that much time.

I must invent an organism to open fists.