Creatures great and small
tracked the chilies
and cherry tomatoes;
they gnawed the beets and potatoes
and destroyed the sunflowers
before the first bloom.
We lost most of the blueberries, probably 50 quarts, to three avian cartels:
the blue-jay gang, the catbird mob, and the brown-thrasher syndicate.
Some fresh magic comes up free to compensate,
a mushroom with the face of a planet that’s not one of ours,
or a globe of bubble glass.
It’s all still good under the moon.