The Contract

You may have my garden if you will give to me
The first pink blossom from its wild apple tree.
You may have the harvest and you may have the toil
If you will let me stretch in the black warm soil.

And all that I can say to you or you can say to me
Is, see how wide the sky is now that I am free
To cultivate my garden or investigate my soul;
Then you may play the gardener and I will play the troll.

And when you’re gnarled and broken this of you I’ll tell:
He had the best melons ever raised to sell.
When I am ripe and sleepy you must speak of me
As smooth bitter fruit from a wild apple tree.