(for vic mizzy)
She’d rather have stayed in Manhattan.
Here, in the land of acres and acres
of nothing but green, in the land
where there’s nothing lacy, no Times Square,
no Park Avenue anywhere to be seen,
only fresh air and endless chores,
she still longs for a little Fifth Avenue Saks
or Macy’s, or any of the other stores.
He, on the other hand, still neatly attired but
at least more comfy in his business suit and tie,
attempts to fix the ancient tractor, imagines
that life amid greenery will set him free;
thinks he only needs to walk down the road,
visit the General Store, talk to the neighbor’s
pig, purchase a bag of Mr. Haney’s Magic Seeds.
RDP Friday — CHORE