Picking Peaches with Family at the Brief Break of the Plague
Maybe the best thing
is asking your father to hold
down a branch of a tree
for you while you trust
your knees to hurl you
high enough to reach that one
peach winking at you
blushing red at the sight
of you and when your palm
connects you know
that it’s ripe by the tenderness
that meets your hand
and which in turn demands
tenderness from you.
Your heart
stirring sudden
at the promise of sweetness.
***
Author photograph courtesy of Soleil Davíd
