Today around noonish
as an early autumn rain drifted down,
I ambled up the hill to glean my midday meal
from my neighbor’s garden (on vacation for a week)
from a long past farmer (name unknown to me)
from a considerate bird (who pooped out a seed
onto a receptive square of earth).
I feasted on
three small tomatoes and spicy leaf of basil
a twisted carrot, crisp and rooty
two red ripe strawberries…really!
a sweet cider apple, still gritty from the roadside
a bunch of wild grapes, pungent and wine-like
Wandering back down the hill, I foraged for the teapot
a delicate sprig of chamomile
a few fat clover blossoms
a crimson cone of sumac
a fragrant clutch of mint
Home again, shaking off my coat,
I spy the final treasure
perched upon the door sill.
A perfect peach, with a note
guess who?
Now
I am finally
gruntled.
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