01-06-2003, 06:19 PM
Janet Dobb
Heat's set in early. June already
chicory in bloom, that blue no eye
could ever be, and lilies orange
as a fencepost tomcat daring the sun
to answer back his yowl. Peonies
went through in a finger's snap, roses
swelled so fast a woman could walk
and smell her wedding day again
on every grassy path. Too much, too soon,
I say. Good strawberries need time.
But you just laugh at me again,
and say Go stain your hands, and touch
my back where my back makes wings, kiss
me on the sly. Tomorrow we'll sugar
and soak and stir, wooden spoons
in big black pots, the kitchen a world
of hell and heaven so sweet the air
is all our mouths will need. Clear glass,
clean wax, the wide-planked table waiting
to hold the jars of cooling jam...
Two women working, windows wide,
sweat on our lips, eyes sharing stories,
neighbors together in strawberry time,
summer ripe as our love.
Katharyn Howd Machan
(c) 1995
Heat's set in early. June already
chicory in bloom, that blue no eye
could ever be, and lilies orange
as a fencepost tomcat daring the sun
to answer back his yowl. Peonies
went through in a finger's snap, roses
swelled so fast a woman could walk
and smell her wedding day again
on every grassy path. Too much, too soon,
I say. Good strawberries need time.
But you just laugh at me again,
and say Go stain your hands, and touch
my back where my back makes wings, kiss
me on the sly. Tomorrow we'll sugar
and soak and stir, wooden spoons
in big black pots, the kitchen a world
of hell and heaven so sweet the air
is all our mouths will need. Clear glass,
clean wax, the wide-planked table waiting
to hold the jars of cooling jam...
Two women working, windows wide,
sweat on our lips, eyes sharing stories,
neighbors together in strawberry time,
summer ripe as our love.
Katharyn Howd Machan
(c) 1995