“Look at the gems on my bracelet,” the bachelor farmer overhears her say
as he stands at the Walmart meat cooler drinking in her scent.
Forehead blazing, he selects a single T-bone, heads for the checkout.
Next day on his Farmall,
he senses her in the hedgerows, sky, soil.
Chants aloud, as he cultivates furrows in the moist earth,
amethyst, pearl, crystal, citrine,
quartz, turquoise, garnet, trimoline,
— J. T. Knoll