
Won't you please join me on this sultry summer evening
for a treat?


For a night when you can bear only the lightest of meals...

If you walk through the French doors, you will find that I have spread blankets on which you may sit. . .
I will leave you with a poem that I wrote several years ago, which I believe is in keeping with the mood of the evening. . .
the nectarine
on this warm and cloudy night,
at 11:37,
i want to give thanks for nectarines.
i was feeling somewhat gloomy
until i remembered him, small, happy thing he was,
waiting for me in the chill of the fridge.
in the dark, i padded into the kitchen in my favorite pair of bare feet.
as i removed him from the white plastic sack, the kitchen was filled with cool, white refridgerator light.
i held him in my hand.
he was cold but his skin was smooth
and
he glowed burnished yellow and dark orange.
he even blushed dark red on one side where the sun had kissed him.
he submitted himself to my bite.
and his juice, like stored sunshine
dribbled itself down my chin and my throat before i could catch it,
trickling all his sticky coolness,
making me happier than i’d been all day.
what a miracle that such a small thing could make me so happy!
so,
on this warm and cloudy night,
at 11:37,
thank you, little nectarine!