PICKING STRAWBERRIES: An Original Memoir Poem

My husband and I became shareholders in a local organic farm this year. We’re happy about being involved in CSA (Community Supported Agriculture). CSA has become popular around these parts. We had been on a waiting list for two years.

Last Monday, my husband, daughter, and granddaughter went to Appleton Farms to pick our weekly barn share of farm produce. They also "picked-our-own share" from the garden. One item they reaped from the garden was a basket of strawberries. Yum!

With strawberries on my mind this week, I decided to post a childhood memoir poem about picking the luscious red fruit in my grandfather’s garden.

PICKING STRAWBERRIES

We pick strawberries

in Dzidzi’s garden,

snap their dark green stems,

finger their beaded coats,

and pop them

into our mouths.

We sink our teeth

into soft, sweet rubies,

little jewels bursting

with the flavor of summer sunshine.

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Super teacher Mary Lee Hahn has the Poetry Friday Roundup over at A Year of Reading.