Summery yellow crooks mark the hot days.
Keep picking daily or surely they will
grow enormous. Too large to eat.
Of course, the plant doesn’t know that.
But having the faith of a child is a
tender thing, and these young golden
squash are just that.
The prickly, itchy plants give us their
best. Again and again. And I gather.
And gather. Soon, I grow weary of
What is it about these summer squash
that makes me crave them and tire of
them all in one season? The plant shows
gratitude by giving its best.
The generosity of bloom, pollen, and plenty.
I scratch my irritated hands that have
stooped and reached under happy plants
that live in thanks.
Under the hot sun I realize, I am nothing
like the squash.
But I am hungry for it.
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