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

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