the mind’s pie (20170705)

summer strolls through
my backyard
leaving peaches fall
baking in the sun
attended by fig beetle and
overwhelming sweet fermenting scent
fills the air
a thousand pies all at once

i long
for the taste of melting
ice cream on my tongue
the coarse grains
of the vanilla bean

a car
on the freeway honks
and i pretend it’s
one of lake geese

peach (20170624)

the peaches ripen now
the beginning of summer

we work fast

to protect what we can of this small
crop from a single tree
trimming back

the branches
where they encroach
on the neighbor’s roof
covering it with a net
in an attempt

to keep birds and
rats and squirrels
[all the same genus as far
as i am concerned when
it comes to this tree]
from making short work of
the fruit

picking a handful
that are ripe
or almost there

eating a single
peach while on the ladder
holding it in my work gloves
and biting into the soft flesh
not caring how the juice runs down
my chin or glistens on my leather fingers
tossing the pit into the open can
and thinking that i’ve never
tasted a peach that good
and knowing it may be

the sun [browning my neck]
doing the talking