Thursday, July 7, 2005

A Bushel of Summer (a work in progress)

A Bushel of Summer (a work in progress)

After-storm earth, baked and rising,
is a whisper in comparison
to a bushel of sunwarm peaches
hefted from the back of a pickup truck.

Ninety degrees and there's no need
to hold one in cupped hands
nose nestled in fuzz -
and yet I can't resist this
sweet inhalation of Carolina summer.


  1. If this is only a work in progress, I can't wait to see the finished piece. Good start here.

  2. eh, this one says nothing. ( lines of blather to say "warm peaches smell good"

  3. then make it say something...

  4. I like this I think it says a lot I can smell the peaches

  5. lovely work e

    such a gift you have

    rub your tummy for me

    & give your self some love

    kiss to you sweetie pie

    ~finchy-poo xxx

  6. I miss you, E. How come you deleted your dirt post? I liked that thought. Anyway... I'm pooped but wanted to stop by and give you a cyber hug. Consider yourself embraced. :o)

  7. Vickie~ Some day I will, for now, I'm calling it zen lol.

    Sue, I'm so glad you dropped in, I really enjoy your blog and poetry.

    Finchy! I'm always so happy to see you here! And you think I'm gifted? I sit for hours sometimes, reading your blog!

    Consider the belly rubbed, and the self-loving will have to wait until, um, later ;)

    I miss you too! Where did 'we' go anyway?

    I guess I deleted the dirt entry because it seemed silly to me, it certainly wasn't poetic lol. *hug* back atcha, go rest, hell week is over :)

  8. This actually says more than you think. We get softness amid heat, warm and fuzzy amid mud and steam, a sensation of either small hands or big peaches, and the wonderful smells of summer.

  9. See, it isn't about small hands or big peaches, it's just about how amazingly strong and sweet the smell of a box of peaches is. Even stronger and more amazingly fresh than the smell of the garden after a summer thunderstorm.

    When they're hand picked and travel from SC to NC in the back of a pickup, with the sun beating down on them, you just don't need to put one to your nose, you smell them before you even get to the truck.

    But the truth is, the draw is irresistable, you just HAVE to do it, wrap your hands around one soft fuzzy sunwarm peach, hold it to your nose, and inhale as deeply as you can.

  10. "Erin, I miss you too! Where did 'we' go anyway?"

    I am thinking more and more that "we," which came into existence in February towards the end of the dead season at work (and by dead I mean "painfully not busy"), have taken a back seat to the craziness that is spring/summer/fall in vet med. I think Angie would probably back me on that one. Now, you'd think that one would still find time to function outside the workplace, and I do, I am just too damned tired during the week to do much after work and I scramble to keep my shit together (bills, groceries, laundry) on the weekends. I keep telling myself it will pass, but it is dawning on my slowly but surely that this is the new norm. See, being a 2-year-old practice, I don't know what to expect. Eeeeeek! If this is now normal, I need a vacation!

  11. I know Erin, and I've gotten sucked into chapbook sales and the whole pregnancy thing and so much muck on my end, plus the kids being out of school for the summer and well... the universe at work eh?

  12. Well, as long as you know that I think of you often, I think I'll be OK. :o)