Fri, 28 Aug 2009

Poem
This was sent to me by a thoughtful person so I thought I'd share it with all of you. "Vegetable Love" by Barbara Crooker, from Radiance Feel a tomato, heft its weight in your palm, think of buttocks, breasts, this plump pulp. And carrots, mud clinging to the root, gold mined from the earth's tight purse. And asparagus, that push their heads up, rise to meet the returning sun, and zucchini, green torpedoes lurking in the Sargasso depths of their raspy stalks and scratchy leaves. And peppers, thick walls of cool jade, a green hush. Secret caves. Sanctuary. And beets, the dark blood of the earth. And all the lettuces: bibb, flame, oak leaf, butter- crunch, black-seeded Simpson, chicory, cos. Elizabethan ruffs, crisp verbiage. And spinach, the dark green of northern forests, savoyed, ruffled, hidden folds and clefts. And basil, sweet basil, nuzzled by fumbling bees drunk on the sun. And cucumbers, crisp, cool white ice in the heart of August, month of fire. And peas in their delicate slippers, little green boats, a string of beads, repeating, repeating. And sunflowers, nodding at night, then rising to shout hallelujah! at noon. All over the garden, the whisper of leaves passing secrets and gossip, making assignations. All of the vegetables bask in the sun, languorous as lizards. Quick, before the frost puts out its green light, praise these vegetables, earth's voluptuaries, praise what comes from the dirt.


posted at: 09:40 | path: /peggy2009 | link for this entry

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