It’s two days after Summer Solstice 
raspberry light swells around the distant pines. 
My snow peas which I pressed into the ground 
in April now stretch and spindle up twine, 
five feet high and three feet wide. 
The procrastination has ended 
in a combustion of cream blooms 
and plump green legumes! 
The taste of them takes me back 
to every June and July: the crunch, 
the ample juice, the sugar sweeter 
than watermelon. Don’t cook them, 
just snap them in your teeth. 
At 50 I don’t get excited about much, 
mostly things like this. Laughing at 
my daughter’s humor, rubbing my wife’s back. 
I try to snap a photo at the perfect angle. 
But it is not the residue that matters, 
nor the memory saved. It is enough 
to dehisce each new pod in my mouth 
right off the vine. 

Scott Ferry

As an RN in the great Pacific Northwest, Scott Ferry helps our Veterans heal. In other lives, he taught English and practiced acupuncture. He also serves as Senior Editor at Gleam: Journal of the Cadralor, and his writing appears in American Journal of Poetry, Cultural Weekly, KYSO Flash, MacQueen’s Quinterly, Misfit, Noble/Gas Qtrly, Slippery Elm, Spillway, and Swimming with Elephants, among others. His first collection, The only thing that makes sense is to grow, was published by Moon Tide Press in December 2019. His second book, Mr. Rogers kills fruit flies, is now available from Main Street Rag.

Poet’s website: https://ferrypoetry.com