Write a four line poem about: suspicion.
Market went well this morning, as we sold out of apples, plums, and green beans. Only had one cabbage left, and we moved all but a couple pounds of the riper variety of apricots. The less ripe apricots will definitely still be good for Tuesday's boxes, so that works out pretty nicely.
Also sold a good number of my greeting cards, which sent me home happy.
I'm full of suspicion,
Was it you? Was it you?
I just wish I could tell
What is true? What is true?