A poem contributed to 2011: The Year of Idaho Food
Down the street is rooted a relic adventure Sown with a relic hope of prosperity When planting a fruit tree was thought to be a gift for children's children... annual abundance, precious sweetness amid unknown hardship oh grandpa, how you tried... In a few weeks, it will begin to bloom, White blossoms garishly splashed over old, twisted bones An absurd blasphemy of the prudence of age, And then the leaves, Shinier, more modest, Respite from the relentless sun of a desert summer day Performing its yearly miracle again, Without permission, Without request, Save the planting of that seed so many years ago. Through the warming womb of summer's green air, Fruit grows plump and heavy, tugging at branches Like sagging breasts on an old farm woman's still-strong back, Sugars swelling and multiplying inside. They'll burst through the tiniest nick in its delicate skin And drip onto the asphalt below. The ground used to drink this nectar, Before the street And the sidewalk Oh grandpa, how it cried... You dreamed of sticky kid hands and faces gorging Amid twinkling leaves on summer afternoons. You dreamed of steaming kitchens stocking This extravagance for desolate winter evenings.Summer's abundance in winter, You dreamed... oh grandpa, how you'd cry... Now the fruit falls unpicked Onto an un-walked on sidewalk As speeding cars carrying downtrodden seeds Zoom by without notice. The lady in the house emerges once a week to grumble and bend, Back stiff, knees stiff, body stiff, soul stiff, shaking out stiff corners of a black plastic bag, Scooping up your dream-treasures Sealing them out with the trash Oh, grandpa, how she tries... But the world is different now. Treasures don't exist in supermarket cans; Instead, we watch pirate movies on TV
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Casey O’Leary runs Earthly Delights Farm, a human-powered farm in northwest Boise offering a vegetable CSA and seeds to the Treasure valley. Her seeds are available at the North End Organic Nursery, Edwards Greenhouse, and the Boise Co-op.
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