pickin' peas...

i realize i've harped on the blazing hell

of a summer we had last year plenty. 

no amount of moaning and lamentation could 

paint a picture of the brown and scorched sadness

of it.  therefore, i will focus on the beauty of the

summer we've been nuzzling necks

with this year.

if, in my next life, i'm a black eyed pea sprout,

i want a summer just like this one.  

i choose soil just as perfectly sandy

as this spot here. 

kindly mr. vegetable farmer down the highway

plants peas every spring to turn under come fall

to liven up his soil.

he always lets us come pick pick pick.  

then we shuck shuck shuck.

this trip, a bushel and a half. 

i'll blanch them, freeze them, and cook them 

just the way we like them. with cornbread. 

all winter long.