Two women, Ruth and Naomi, push a box spring on a skateboard across a bridge to a city called Habitation. The names echo the biblical Ruth and Naomi, who are known for loyalty to each other, and the parted waters nod to another Bible story, though the poem never spells the connections out. Once they arrive, they turn a rocky patch of a community garden into a bed, using tall grass and forget-me-nots, and then get to work: Naomi grafts new branches onto blighted fruit trees, and Ruth weaves blankets to shield against the wind.
Meanwhile, wealthy people in penthouses, and those who put on a false front, drop "tea cups of acid" on ordinary people below. The speaker clearly sides with the two women, and the mood is quietly defiant and tender. The closing lines read like a verdict drawn from evidence: homespun care and honest faces are hard to destroy. Kindness, the poem suggests, outlasts cruelty.