If I had to choose I would choose the blue tractor sitting in silhouette on the hill, waiting for my neighbor to decode the sudden weight of wind and heat and the murmuration of birds to determine the day for planting. If I had to choose I would choose the tractor and the sunset And hope. I walk across rough soil where wild seeds have fallen from spent grasses, and plants bend down to rest; we wait for rain. By the house, I count monarch chrysalises suspended, waiting. I call my dogs, and counsel the rabbits to run. If I had to choose, my life wins every time. It is enough. And I love it.