She sits in the top of the greenest tree
She sends out an aroma of undefined love! It drips on down in a mist from above!
The soil is so fertile it’s almost vulgar. At night I go out and smell it, or maybe “huff” is the better verb, given how deviant it feels to lurk among the shadows in a geosmin euphoria.
I made some plans for what to grow. The land to which I have access is municipal; I do not own it. But empty land doesn’t bear the same foreboding aura here that it does…