Every Friday, we’re mixing things up with a different kind of food writing. More specifically, food poetry to be read slowly, over your morning coffee. This week, a remembrance of summer fruit.
Today, while you drink your coffee, take a moment for the summer fruit that has come and gone. This poem is dedicated to a few cherries, and, shown through the lovely image of climbing a cherry tree, is about chasing the last of the summer produce that we wait for all year long. (Don’t worry, we’ll sing the apple's praise soon enough.)
We’re reading this in slight mourning, over breakfast, and wishing we had made a few more tortes.
To a Few Cherries by W.S. Merwin
I have a thing for most foods topped with a fried egg, a strange disdain for overly soupy tomato sauce, and I can never make it home without ripping off the end of a newly-bought baguette. I like spoons very much.
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