Olives, their wood and oil have never been
of interest to me. Wharf warehouses, tin,
spices and loans have been more profitable.
But, still, this garden is quite beautiful;
in this locale, that is unusual
among Jerusalem's vast, urban sprawl.
The trees look very healthy---ancient, tall,
and gnarled. And fruitful?---yes? What do they call
this place---the local name---Gethsemane?
The price is fair enough. The property
has somehow, these few moments, smitten me;
such that I do not want to let it go.
I have had whims like this before, you know.
And they paid off well. I think this will be a
gift for my wife. Oh, yes? Arimathea?---
she hailed from there . . . before. Now she is home---
with her newborn, my fine stepson, in Rome.