From my neighbor's dark garden, I harvested
pilfering slender spears from their feathery bed. I cut
buds of American Beauty, and all spring and into early
I have savored the fragrance redolent of theft.
Through summer, I pinched from his vines
squash, beans, tomatoes, and more squash.
In the yard where I watched his daughter marry, I
by moonlight, quietly divided his hostas, divided his
keeping half. My neighbor's dead, the house for sale,
and after dark his garden's mine to love and plunder.