Harvest is here. Sown by none. Son of a nature greater then us. Easy to see. So close it touches my house. With its thorns it scratches your thumbs. Thorns don’t hurt. They’ll turn sweet in my house. Now many push for my pies. More arms work in my kitchen. I looked around me. I’ve found a story and a job to share. My prayer was answered by nobody’s nature.

Eftali, Gliko Almeg, Përmet