Tuesday, July 15, 2014

The Harvest

String beans, corn, and squash
I picked till my back ached
Yet it was glorious
Harvesting at sunrise
While the air was yet chilled
And the sun had not warmed
Fruit or vegetable or me.
I looked for the perfect bean
Yet picked a few that were not clean
I wanted the largest squash
Yet found out smaller is better – less seeds
Corn when ready has brown hair
Not ready – and it’s blond
When do we look ready?
I wonder.

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