And they shall plant vineyards and drink the wine thereof;

They shall also make gardens, and eat the fruit of them.

 

And I will plant them upon their land,

And they shall no more be plucked up

Out of their land which I have given them...

 

--Amos 9:14-15

 

In our suburban yard my mother grew

strawberries and green beans,

enough to freeze

 

There was a sour cherry tree for pies

and a sweet cherry that, planted alone,

could not bear fruit.

 

When he came home from work, my father

would take my mother by the arm,

"check out the back forty,"

 

strolling the twenty steps

to the arbor of Concord grapes

at the property line

 

overlooking the hollow of Cedar Creek

where I could pick wild raspberries

and swing on monkey vines

 

and in his volume of the prophet Amos

my father would only scribble

 

"We're all dreamers"