Rumbling in the background
The traffic on 29 North
Just beyond the small strip mall
That is itself just beyond 
The back of the back
Of our backyard

Before Woody
Beyond my back yard’s lawn
Was an old basketball hoop
Imbedded in concrete
In the middle of opportunistic trees
In the back of the back

Then Woody landscaped 
That back of the back
Seven years ago
The year we pretend-married
The year after we met

Landscaped is such a sedate word
For weeks of wheelbarrowed rocks
Broken up concrete
Sawed up wood
And digging
Digging, digging, digging
Measuring, shaping
Until the back of the back
Once forsaken
Once resigned to strip mall intrusions
Became our shade garden
Made by Woody
Entered through an archway
Made by Woody
Covered by Carolina jasmine
With sometimes sweet yellow flowers
Planted by Woody

Down the three broad stone steps
Planned and created by Woody
Into the cool shade garden
With the Woody-made stream
Flowing into the Woody-made pond
Adorned with the Woody-made large Japanese lantern
Surrounded by Woody-planted shade-loving flora
Alive with goldfish bought, not made, by Woody

We walk the brief paths
Woody and I
We cross the low arched wooden bridge
Woody-made, of course,
To span the Woody-made
Small stream

Woody says that every rock
In our shade garden
Every rock, large and small,
He moved at least four times
He estimates

Until he created
Over much longer than six days
A not-natural but Woody-made oasis
In the back of our back

I want to be the one
Always
To love and be loved by
Woody