My neighbor stops by while I’m weeding my kale seedlings, asking what’s this? and this? and then stands where mulched blueberry plants edge up against a wild spread of field, heading down the back hill. Bind weed, ripped relentlessly from my garden beds, twines around milkweed.
Monarch banquet, I answer.
Through our domestic life – a teenager in and out of love, trampoline jumping – these ancient migrations make their way around us, munching, fluttering, procreating, moving on.
What it takes on this planet,
to make love to each other in peace….
– Pablo Neruda
