Weeding toward the garden’s edge
one morning, I put my hand
on a nest of fire ants.
Someone told me I could
kill them
by pouring gasoline into their hills.
My burning skin
kept me awake
considering
which I wanted more,
the joy
of next year’s garden, organic
carrots, plump pea pods, cherry tomatoes,
enough pole beans to fill the freezer,
or the joy
of vengeance.
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Oh my! So very true to the human condition!