'Stink of rot'

A fruit fly

A fruit fly

“The whiskey stink of rot has settled

in the garden, and a burst of fruit flies rises

when I touch the dying tomato plants.’'

— From “September Tomatoes,’’ by Karina Borowicz, a poet based in Massachusetts’s Pioneer Valley

Previous
Previous

Llewellyn King: Planting trees for health; data-mining sewage

Next
Next

'Treacherously hidden'