I guess I shouldn't have chosen an example poem by a plant ecologist, then :)

(Come to think of it, I know just enough about plants that sometimes I have the reverse problem with fantasy novels: it niggles at my suspension of disbelief when a hopeful peasant lad hikes through a forest for days without noticing the trees.)

What do you think of "I remember the carrots"? I guess there's still a gardening image, but it has a conversational rhythm you might appreciate.