May 16, 2014Summer Peaches
for Peaches
I don’t remember everything,
but I remember summer peaches.
We used to eat them in the condo at the beach
and for a long time,
those were the best peaches I knew.
We had peaches when she came,
and suddenly those Florida fruits meant nothing.
We called her Peaches,
and she was the best one I’ll ever know.
She loved all of us—
Our family was hers.
I don’t forget the way her eyes softened,
when she saw my father.
And he would say,
“She’s one of a kind.”
She’s in the backyard and the river now,
and no sun shined when she died.
I don’t remember everything,
but I remember the smell of her ashes
and I remember summer peaches.
from 2014 RYPA