The Fat of the Land

In a dry spell, the plants
In sandy soils compete
To slow each other’s growth.

Fatty acid traces
Ooze from their roots to block
Each other’s advances,

To survive scarcity.
Water’s the limiting
Resource. Remember this,

Each time the rare rains start
To fall for a brief while,
And you smell that perfume

Called petrichor rise up
Into the fragrant air.
Your animal nostrils

Delight in a lipid
Reminder of those fights
Between drought-stricken plants.