Not a prodigious amount not a mad amount.
Of plants, I mean.
I followed your recipes to the letter just until I used up all
the vegetables you’d grown and the fruit.
I followed your ballpoint on your feint-ruled recipe cards.
You never did. You’d dig out the right card
set it on the counter then never look the whole time.
The preserves I’ve made won’t be much good
but I used up all you’d grown.
What’s there to say. When you walked through your orchard
I could see your slender fruit trees wanted to follow.
The last bottle only filled halfway.
While it cooled I sat before it there and tried to will myself
as one clipped onto a polygraph
could you please repeat the question
I could not eat. I tried to seal it halfway like that
then left the wax and dipper to harden in the pot.
I chose a few handsome jars for my basket.
Filled the pantry shelves and half the workbench.
I hope the vagrants arrive before the mortgage people