Harvest Moon

for Brandy

Redgold sunflowers line the west border of the garden bed,
dozens of crimson crowns hanging heavy with seeds
every one a volunteer from last year
glowing in the slanting light
of early autumn afternoon

the firemen across the street are singing crude songs
while they wash their trucks for the umpteenth time this week
and the white sheet of the teepee in the garden
is flapping idly in the breeze

harvest a giant pan of tomatoes while the kid naps
tugging gently at their rounded bodies
to see if they are ready to give leave of the vine
cherokee purples, brandywines, sungolds and mortgage lifters
shape them into a heart for Brandy
and spend thirty minutes dicing them.
every time i lean on the knife
i mutter
screw cancer
and make myself smile
and each time the blade cleaves the flesh
it is a prayer
augmented by ten cloves of garlic
and a pile of basil.

freeze the bruschetta in bags
for some dark night in winter
when the sharpness of the garlic
and the ripeness of the tomatoes
and the spice of the basil
will, swirled together over bread,
remind us of what vitality is possible

in the meantime,
harvest moon tonight,
2nd night of luminescent fullness
make potato leek soup,
close times with the ones we love



Filed under autumn weather, basic goodness, cancer, Family, Food, Garden, gathering, love

3 responses to “Harvest Moon

  1. Tears are streaming down my cheeks and my heart just filled my chest so fully that breathing became a conscience act. Thank you, Sarah.

  2. Morris Fox

    hey sary: sent previous message before i noticed your latest posting. bet those tomatoes have a lot more taste than those i find at the supermarket. don’t follow your reference to cancer. what am i missing? love g’pop Date: Mon, 1 Oct 2012 02:08:06 +0000 To: liberal559@hotmail.com

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