A Proposal

Katie Richardson

We didn’t know how to garden,

but we loaded up your truck

with pallet wood, yards of topsoil,

and too many seedlings. We built a bed

and tucked something precious beneath

the earth. Yes, we made

mistakes. The squirrels nibbled our kale

down to stalk and uprooted

our onions. We planted too many tomato

plants and none of them got the sunlight

they deserved. The basil and cilantro bolted

early—eager to reproduce—and we couldn’t

blame them for their want. Our plans

of making marinara sauce and salsa danced

out of reach. Left with four flourishing

jalapeno plants, we pivoted.

We didn’t know how to make hot sauce,

but we worked through the unknown

together. We found a recipe and chopped

peppers, slivered the surviving garlic,

and covered it all with salted water.

While we waited for wild yeast

to ferment our harvest, we tried three new

things and four old ones. Two weeks later,

we dipped corn chips into our improvisation

and eagerly awaited the sting. Capsaicin simmered

across our tongues, but never lit a fire. Instead of

disappointment, we felt determination to make

something better with what we had. I don’t know if I’ve seen

a happy marriage, but why should that stop us?

We are nimble in life and love. Let’s meet in the kitchen

every August with whatever we’ve grown between us.

KATIE RICHARDSON is an emerging writer and poet. She has had fiction published in Bridge Eight and East by Northeast Literary Magazine. When she is not writing, she works at a healthcare company in Madison, Wisconsin and enjoys spending time with her partner and her dogs, Olive and Arthur.