Perfect Life
In my perfect life
I grow vegetables
and lots of herbs
right outside
through the kitchen
screen door, opening
to my garden.
With shears in my hand
I’m cutting basil and
parsley for an Italian
dinner. I’m happiest
when the tomatoes are
red and ripe, and there’s
enough zucchini for a
whole summer. Across
the garden, a man is in
the garage, tinkering
with electronics to see
if he can get them going.
He watches me
picking vegetables,
kneeling, hands in the soil.
He’s smiling. Eyes are
soft, content. He knows
this is everything.
I call out to him
Dinner’s ready!
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