You admired my little plantlets

so much so that I have thought of

what to offer in return that

might convey my thanks correctly

in a manner timely and yet

full of context in your comment

so while draining yet another

plastic bag of milk for coffee

in the hours of yester morning

came the thought within me dawning

that with sieve and trowel gladly

I might package for you compost

made of spareribs we have eaten

and of beet tops used for pickling

not to mention last week's corn husks

and the debris of my lifestyle

also secret bits of paper

that the wrigglers munch securely.

So remember that within here

are the fruits of all my labours

in the kitchen and the office

nothing wasted, nothing tossed out

but secured for healthy plant growth

and made sterile by a process

not in patent but so simple

that I wonder why I had not

thought about it so much sooner

now that summer is upon us.

Each small bag is left to slow-cook

in the hotness of the sunshine

for one day by which time truly,

lives of pesky little egglets

are brought swiftly to conclusion

by the product of star fusion

then the heat escapes to finish

its sad journey to a heat-sink

leaving just a sack of compost

sterile, ready for the new life.

You can freeze it, stack it, tub it

'till the day when you have cuttings

from a friend that you would cherish

then you take the sack and use it

that your memories may not perish

but produce fresh cuttings which you

pass on to the others near you

just as you have done with your farm

these few days affording greatly

a retreat for my friend Scott who

sure could use some days of quiet

'fore he slipped into derangement

which is why I am so glad that

you can make a difference to him

with the house-sitting arrangement.

So now, welcome home and do be

cheered by this my token offering,

just a symbol of my thanks and

such a small one too at that

but nonetheless conveyed with feeling.