Gluttonous of peaches –

I am grasping

  greedy

    miserly to shameful

degree.

“Let the juice run down

the chin”?

Nonsense.

Folly.

Shameful profligacy.

Serrated knife peels

brushed-velvet skin,

slices slim bright grins

from deep-grooved

stone.

Like myth & love,

I swallow whole.

Every liquid vein,

each mouthful –

  mine alone.

    Savor

      savor…

Ingest

the whole of Summer’s

transient warmth,

ward against impending

cold.

— C.Birde, 8/21