The Guilt of Peaches

I felt today that I take
for granted what reappears
in tradition
in appeasement
in the fruit fields on the opening of August
in succulent flavor
in the orange, translucent light (after a bite)
these are things that live
again and again
they are rebirth
death, they are never
in stomach parting
the snack for a scavenger of night
a pit left behind for the subtle hope of new growth
we come in the form of return
we in growth, my children from the peach
the size of trees
look at me, certainly not a new tree
I walk away for the next picking.


6 thoughts on “The Guilt of Peaches

  1. S.C. Hickman says:

    There is poetry in this line: “I walk away for the next picking.” Why? It is the only line in the poem that leaves on in the mystery, the rest are prose, description, thought… this one allows for that transport to meaning beyond or in excess of itself, because it does not spell out in concrete terms other than the literal translation the truth of the matter; it instead allows for one to surmise whether this is factual reporting or should it be read in other figures of though or speech. To me I take the latter path and say whether consciously or not that your poem up to that point dealt with a form or tradition, and now it tells us that you are walking away from all “I walk away” that and beginning to seek out a new tradition or form “the next picking”. Let us hope the new becomes a fullness and surprise. 🙂

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