plums

"There's an island way out in the sea
Where the babies, they all grow on trees
And it's jolly good fun to swing in the sun
But you gotta watch out if you sneeze-sneeze
Gotta watch out if you sneeze" 

~ The Baby Tree, Rosalie Sorrels

grand to have a memory triggered

     the past suddenly in the present

a summer day walking with my mother

     to the park where she sometimes

finds plums ready to be picked   plucked

     nice plump pickable pluckable plums 

to me a treasure for who knew

     such a thing grew on trees

and i wondered what else might grow on trees   

     wrigley's spearmint gum

taffy apples   margaret's fried chicken

     how is a child to know

when all the world is random

    and parents assume it isn't

peaches  

peaches came to me late in life   not too late

only ten peachless years

though gerber may have strained a few my way

before cognizance 

i remember it as if it were yesterday

or even today   a few minutes ago

sitting on a duffel bag full of dirty clothes

camp clothes   the last day of camp

waiting for the bus to take us to the train

which would take us home

ten and homesick   the kind that only comes

on the last day   when looking forward to 

switches from where we are 

to where we will be

sitting on duffle bags   kids

full of indian lore and medaled with mosquito bites   

eating a box lunch and a peach   a fuzzy drippy

darling of a peach   who knew

such sweetness could be contained so tidily

and expressed so messily