The tree down the street (local grub)

canning-cropped.jpg

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
In 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 out 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

cropped-lori-casey-amie-making-pear-butter.jpg
Lori, Casey and Amie making pear butter

Farmer Casey
A native Idahoan and dirt-worshipper with a passion for plants, this is her 3rd season as a market gardener and chicken co-conspirator, and her first as a beekeeper. She also runs a place-based landscaping company in the Boise area. For fun, she likes to make things out of things she grows (tomatillo salsa, elderberry wine, turnip art, etc.). Visit her in the garden, at the market, or weekly through her subscription farm.

Earthly Delights Farm is a subscription farm growing the old-fashioned way (with compost and chemical-free) in 1 acre of NW Boise dirt. Farmers, chickens, volunteers, bees, and worms work passionately together to grow a wide variety of hand-crafted veggies, fruits, herbs, and flowers, which we share with our members.

Volunteers always welcome
Veggies and eggs in exchange for work!…

earthly delights farm
greenSheRa@hotmail.com, (208) 284-3712
3801 N. Tamarack Drive, Boise, ID 83703

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3 responses to “The tree down the street (local grub)

  1. Pear butter sounds really good. Do you have the ball big book of canning? They have around 400 great recipes for canning.

  2. I crocheted your gloves for you while watching that pirate movie, love.

  3. Your poem renders mucha emocion de mi. I love your style, you remind m;e of a blonde Michelle Schocked. I want your consult on a garden design. Please contact me GreenMtn@cableone.net

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