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A Poem To Celebrate Nectarines

 A chance conversation about eating healthy foods delivered me back to the bountiful garden my father created all those years ago, ensuring we ate well. Fruit and vegetables were plentiful and varied in our humble household. It was economically and gastronomically a sound investment. Garden to plate was seamless. Sometimes the fresh produce never made it to the plate. My favourite fruit trees in the mini orchard were the nectarines.  

That's where this juicy little poem finds its essential spark in a memory regained. A conversation delivered a moment in time, now captured in words. Nectarines are not in season at present, but they are front of mind for me at least. Anything can be the focus of a poem-even nectarines. Poet's respond.



A Morning Bounty Of Ripe Nectarines 

I heard the footsteps on the back veranda

Then I heard the fly screen door swing shut

Wrapped in the turned up hem of his old jumper

My father nursed a bounty of freshly picked nectarines

Plucked from the fruit trees

in our tiny garden orchard

He brings the garden with him

-Twigs crest his shoulders

-Leaves in his hair

And a faint scratch on his cheek

I pause the keen eating of my breakfast cereal

As he sets the ripe fruit down on the kitchen table

He tosses me a ripe and ready nectarine 

With skin of blood and gold

Before throwing me a knowing wink…


I head for school

Nectarine sweetness

Dribbling down my chin.

Alan j Wright


It is Poetry Friday and our host this time is Margaret Simon at Reflections On The Teche.

Margaret's post pays homage to a summer  coming to its inevitable end in the northern hemisphere. she shares a poem in praise of summer elements and experiences.

 


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Comments

  1. Margaret Simon19 July 2024 at 21:50

    I love the line, "He brings the garden with him." Such a wonderful image of your father as well as fresh nectarines. Yum!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Tabatha19 July 2024 at 23:07

    A beautiful sensory memory! Nectarines might be my favorite fruit. I would love to have my own tree!

    ReplyDelete
  3. laurasalas20 July 2024 at 03:40

    Oh, that skin of blood and gold! We had a few avocado trees in our yard (Florida), but I don't care for them. And I actually didn't eat any fruits or vegetables as a child. I love that I get to live an entirely different kind of life and family through a poem!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Rose Cappelli20 July 2024 at 06:04

    This is a beautiful snapshot in words and wonderful sensory details, Alan. I can picture it all, especially that skin of blood (ahhh!) and gold and the juice dribbling down your chin. I also love how the poem begins with movement in and ends with movement out.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Denise Krebs20 July 2024 at 09:14

    Oh, Alan, wow. So much beauty in this memory of the nectarines. I have a refrigerator drawer full of juicy nectarines now. They too have "skin of blood and gold" Such a beautiful description. My mouth is watering right now from your poem, so I'm off to take a nectarine break.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Patricia Franz20 July 2024 at 12:22

    Really love your ending lines, Alan. Everything builds to that bite. And all with no words spoken!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Marcie Flinchum Atkins20 July 2024 at 23:17

    I love "twigs crest his shoulders." Just lovely. Lots of nectarines at the farmers market this morning. So yummy!

    ReplyDelete
  8. Mary Lee22 July 2024 at 09:35

    Oh, wow. Nectarines fresh off the tree. What a treat. The flavor of nectarines are the flavor of summer for me.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Michelle Kogan24 July 2024 at 07:45

    Alan your poem is deliciously gorgeous, yum, such a beautiful capturing of the moment and visions—I hope it sees an even greater audience, thanks!

    ReplyDelete
  10. Carol Varsalona25 July 2024 at 23:08

    Alan, your poem is not only memorable but juicy. I love the descriptions and the line in your prose piece: Garden to plate was seamless. I hope to see you at this week's roundup.

    ReplyDelete

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