Poetry Sunday: From Blossoms by Li-Young Lee
I seem to be stuck in a rut with poetry these days, remembering my mother as she worked to preserve the harvest from our fruit trees. It is that time of year, of course, the time when the trees' produce is full-grown and ready to be harvested. She canned the fruits as they were or turned them into jams, jellies, or preserves to be enjoyed in winter. I especially remember those delicious peaches and the blossoms from which they came...
by Li-Young Lee
From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the boy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward
signs painted Peaches.
From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.
O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilance of peach.
There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.
To eat a peach mindfully (I'm beginning to despise that adverb!) would be such a gift and a pleasure. Your poem encapsulates perfectly the sweetness and life of a peach.
ReplyDeleteI especially love the phrase "the round jubilance of peach." So descriptive and so true.
DeleteI have saved a lot of poems about oranges in my poetry file, and this one is a keeper for me. What a delicious poem!
ReplyDeleteI was surprised to discover that I had already saved it!
DeleteI agree - it is definitely a keeper.
DeleteOh, for a peach off a tree -I haven’t had one in so many years. They are heavenly I won’t even buy a peach from a supermarket. What a lovely poem this was.
ReplyDeletePeaches from the supermarket or fruit stand can never quite match the taste of a warm peach plucked fresh from the tree.
DeleteOur best peaches are grown in the Niagara Peninsula and this year they have been exceptionally delicious. The poem captures them well.
ReplyDeleteIt is a marvelous appreciation of a wonderful fruit.
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