Sock-footed, propped in <br /> rocker-the emperor reigns <br /> before stove belly. <br /> <br />Wooden bowl, empire <br /> of riches-ivory and <br /> gold, peaches and cream. <br /> <br />Purse-lipped and globe cheeked, <br /> dipping spoonfuls of sunset <br /> from a quart Ball jar. <br /> <br />How they slide over <br /> topography of tongue and teeth- <br /> earth smiles sweetly. <br /> <br />Lips slurp, fire snaps, <br /> summer swells each mouthful- <br /> remembrance dribbles down chin. <br /> <br />Tractors chug in sunny orchard- <br /> wagon-load of mothers, <br /> kids, old men. <br /> <br />Dusty leaves bend, <br /> finger-length stretch from God- <br /> wobble on creaky ladders. <br /> <br />Bite into the first drupe <br /> reached for-pick-eat, pick-eat- <br /> empty baskets below. <br /> <br />Drive home sticky-chinned, <br /> sweet-sick, itchy-skinned, red- <br /> nose and neck-bath blessings. <br /> <br />Long nights, languid dreams- <br /> droop of lancelate leaves <br /> in a Chinese painting.<br /><br />Phillip Michael Sawatzky<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hot-fire-and-cool-peaches-after-walking-into-viola-sunset/
