A four line poem about: the orchard.
We sold a lot of tomatoes this morning, but not all of them. So we'll be freezing a lot of them tomorrow for use in the winter months, along with some peppers that were also left over. If we're feeling particularly ambitious we'll even do up some pickling cukes.
So much for our day off... but I suppose you don't really need too much time off when you're doing what you love.
So much sacrificed fruit dots the ground -
When they tumbled did they make a sound?
The air is bereft of bees humming;The apple harvest must be coming.