By the okra and behind the lettuce and kale, There sits a structure, a persistent estate with foundation as natural as clouds, Recumbent soil nearly undisturbed, A triumph over seasons, all growth Seems static in just one visit To this joyous imposition, This invocation of light, And yet something stirs– an amphibious tenant Clinging to…
A Treefrog in my Father’s Greenhouse by Joshua Brunetti
