I’ve been thinking a lot about Cincinnati lately, recalling the first glimpse…
You can always find them in the garden,
lurking there in the cooler shadows,
setting up shop and putting down roots—
soil-squatters, mulch-poachers, the illegitimate green.
I squat down in professional stance
for a close inspection and calm reach,
an executioner crouched and gloved,
my leathered fingers itching for the kill.
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