In my trembling hand
an almost empty jam jar
lit with early morning sun
and amber leavings of
plums from four summers ago
mellow sweetness infused
with nutmeg, cinnamon
a breath of cloves
and I know
I will meticulously scrape
every delectable trace
of this one last pint
to expertly spread across
what would otherwise be
unremarkable toast
soon rendered sublime.
an almost empty jam jar
lit with early morning sun
and amber leavings of
plums from four summers ago
mellow sweetness infused
with nutmeg, cinnamon
a breath of cloves
and I know
I will meticulously scrape
every delectable trace
of this one last pint
to expertly spread across
what would otherwise be
unremarkable toast
soon rendered sublime.
3 comments:
beauitful
incredible verse... and that photo??? to die for!!!!
MFD--thanks so much for visiting my blog! I've taken a look at yours, too, will be back to visit when I have more time to comment.
Paisley--aw, shucks! I think I surprise myself when some of my favorite things to write about come out of left field. This one came from making breakfast for my son this morning (he's in love with the plum jam his dad makes) and as I was spreading the jam on his toast, I looked at the way the sun hit the jar... and it just happened. So I had to snap a pick, type a few lines in... and here it is. Thanks for your encouragement; it means a lot.
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