Persimmons on the Sidewalk

They sag in just the way I remember,

Clotting against each other in nests of purple and gold,

Skins thinning and flesh softening

Against the sidewalk.

I used to eat them off a tree at the edge of a cotton field,

Loving them more than plums

But probably not quite as much as blackberries.

Their feral sweetness in my throat tickled

With its hint of something gone to ruin.

sometimes I picked them too early,

And their greenness would send me

Home for water.

One time I made some jam with them.

It sat on my shelf in jars

Until someone insisted I spread it on toast,

And I did.

My teeth missed the skins

And the nudge of the pit.

Wasps crawl inside them still,

I notice now,

Intoxicated with loamy fruitflesh

And the heady disappearing nourishment

Of summer.

copyright 2007 l.k. sorrells

Persimmons on the Sidewalk

Laurkat

Jasper, United States

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