I'm writing you this letter displayed on a carved cherry flute. I'm sending it along through a poem's fully licensed cloud of incense; the only delivery system I can still hitch up for long distance pitching. I'm writing you a letter you'll probably…
The ground is workable from the second week of March most years. You put a fork in by the gate and if it goes down clean and comes up without clagging you have the beds, and if it does not you wait, and I have waited fifty-three springs in this garden and have never once…