We live in a world where some lies sinkto their knees in the bottomland. Othersunsheathe wings, lift and ferry their seeds, driftup like the down of angels. My mother believedselling vacuum cleaners and eternal salvationwere both honorable. I agree. It doesn't matterif you're slicing limes for your fancy gin or tossingthe rinds under the porch to ward off feral cats,you can still sever what you need the most.These days, it's the need that interests me.Not once have I told the kind of lie that flew away.Like pine sap on fingers, mine have fused and clung,tacky, awkward. And sometimes you just don't knowwhat you don't know. For years I said I was in lovewith windows but it turned out what I loved was light.To be honest, I'm in it for the tomatoes and the flowers.I can't go on harvesting carrots in the rain forever.Where the road forks right toward the meaning of lifeand left toward cheese and crackers, I go left. Andin the end we will die like the cedars, wet, with cold feet.