It was a house with a garden
Broken shingles and an attic
A porchless little stoop
With a mosquito-collecting habit

That summer, you bought it

I brought home seeds from the market
Three dollars, sixty five
Magellan circled the world
But you double-circled mine

I didn’t mind

I came home and you saw my seeds
But looked and found no bread
You grabbed them from my sorry hands
And scattered them before the shed

That autumn they sprouted overnight
Stretching out of my dreams
Past the porchless stoop
Obscuring the moonlight stream

You awoke at dawn to the rooster’s crow
No sun making its way through the curtains
You drew them open to find a branch
And rushed outside to be certain

You grabbed an axe ad severed my trees
Used them as logs for kindling
My hearth has already burnt out
But you hadn’t brought them for me

Still I hung around
Sold teardrops by the pound
Became millionaires living in disrepair
But if I’m going down
I’ll turn around
And take you with me

All I wanted was a peach tree in the garden