Thursday, June 5, 2008

... and this little piggy went to market.

A mountain of peaches
With articulate scent.
“We’ll be ripe by the weekend.”

A flooded market.
At 99 cents per pound,
I’ll take a crate.

2 comments:

Thi N said...

i think this is the best poem this blog has yet seen.

or, at least, the best poem about ripeness.

Thi N said...

"articulate scent"...

i likes