on a wood porch I sip from a goblet
as a jasmine vine climbs
the trellis near my elbow
pink begonias fountain the hanging baskets
you can smell the pacific
as it rolls over the banister
 
I thought of the acres
we’d traveled
farmlands rich with crops
illusions of nurturing abundance
I wondered if mankind had a conscious
when they created terminator seeds
and why it was so necessary
beyond the obvious greed
to alter the DNA of something
so precious as a seed,
natures perfect design
assuring abundance and food
for ever after
generations of crops
that now were mutated
to one harvest
I wondered what eating that crop would
do – mutate the population?
maybe we’d also no longer be reproductive
its overwhelming, sometimes
 
I hated an invisible unknowable enemy
my only strategy
was to avoid the commercial grocer
and support the organic farmers
sigh, pour a glass of mental whine
and find contentment
here on the porch
near the jasmine vine