Durazno Dulce
It's January,
and I'm eating a ripe peach.
The cool flesh quenches me
like a South Carolina breeze
off the distant mountain ridges.
I can almost taste the sweet clover
growing between the orchard rows
when I close my eyes and chew slowly.
It's funny,
that this fuzzy, half-eaten fruit
is from the country of Chile
and not from Greer, or Cooley Springs.
Though I've been down Highway 25,
long before it turned four-lane,
I can't quite picture the towering Andes
or feel the wind from their snow-capped peaks.
1 comment:
Ahhhh, but you know now that they have good peaches, so maybe one day that will drive you to visit there.
I have been all over the world a time or two, it seems. It's all different, but strangely the same; if that makes any sense at all.
By the way, I stuck something up on AW, so feel free to add something else for us eat up. lol Imma hafta go round up all the strays, I reckon. They seemed to have got out of the fence over the Fall and Winter.
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