In Bright Summer

In bright summer

we picked peaches for hours, for days

each tree a dense house of hungry bees

and birds, dipping fingers into the sweetness

of now against the time when there would be none

Every farmer knows scarcity; every farmer knows hope

this is the lesson my father taught me

walking for hours behind his jenny mule

standing in the doorway waiting for rain

praying over his field and our food and

sometimes, over me

2 thoughts on “In Bright Summer

  1. Love it. I so miss the days of picking peaches with dad. He would get so excited, slice up a peach in the orchard and share it with me. “Lisa, you’ve got to have a bite of this one”, he would say.

    Never worked in the peach shed though. I bet that was an experience!


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