Today for breakfast I ate talk
It was a grazing breakfast,
In the locker room
Offered up casually by
Silvered women as varied as fruit or vegetables
With their clothes off,
just after their water class.
Surrounded by tall locker towers,
In the shower, drying, dressing, putting on their faces
“I like ‘em just naked.”
“Not me. I like ‘em with whipped cream.”
“My husband says my strawberry pie is the best.”
“Yeah, but I just like ‘em naked. Not the California kind.
I wait for the Oregon ones just off the vine.
So sweet. Only for two weeks. Most years. If it doesn’t rain a week in early June.”
I made him that pie yesterday, from those ones I got from Mexico.
I had just sat down and he asked me to get him a fork,
And I said, ”get it yourself.”
“I never did that before.”
It was my turn to taste that pie.
by Susan Grace Beekman
Photo © Laurin Rinder | Dreamstime Stock Photos
