On a muggy August afternoon with the Sun piercing down,
burning skin, roasting the dry calloused ground, and withering the thirsty thistles, a line of fruit trees fight the day.

Apple and pear, mulberry and cherry
Their blossoms long faded but delivering cool contrast to the summer.
Together a family walks along looking up, shaking branches, and laughing. The
children scurry along chasing each other with stained fingers and lips
as they enjoy what has fallen.
Trailing them are the parents and grandparent carrying pales,
filling them with the sweet sticky fruit, occasionally sneaking some for themselves.

Together, circling two buckets, everyone joins in and pits the cherries.
A long and tedious job but time gets lost among stories and memories.

Puckered lips and squeals of satisfaction fill the sweltering kitchen
as the family bites into the fresh pie filled with a long days play, work, and love.

-AM