We Bathed in the Tomatoes…

…from our garden and shared
them with our neighbors. Ditto
the zucchini. We agreed between
us that we had been farmers in
past lives. The neighborhood had
never seen such carrots and

broccoli. “Of the gods!” they
exclaimed. Though I soaked and
scrubbed our bounty, dirt made
its way into our bellies especially
from the new potatoes. My
husband soon suggested

chickens for their eggs and
a rooster, of course. And then
the subject of a cow was brought
up. Then the need of a pasture.
Then sheep for me to spin yarn
with the roving. Then I said, “You

realize, we’re mad people!” But he
had me at “Keep all the yarn!” And
I said, “A truck to deliver the eggs!”
And we would sell chicks! Then we
became tired from the adrenaline
rush and floated back down to our

living room. And he said, “We’ll go
shopping for yarn.” I said, “And eggs.”
He said, “A cow has to be milked twice
a day.” I said, “I think it was our success
with the tomatoes.” He said, “What?”
I said, “The farm we just had.” We

agreed the farm would be kept secret.
But every summer thereafter, our secret
would grow in size. Within the excitement
of an hour we would sit upon clouds,
giddy with dreams, needing only each other.

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