Before you know it, they’re gone…

“Best of Intentions”

They dangled–

fleshy and golden

on bending emerald boughs

“Better go pick those apricots”

Said my husband

My hands were sudsy with dishwater

 

Tomorrow is another day.

 

The apricots danced

in the breeze, resolute in their staying.

They beckoned me

over children’s laughing, joyful heads —

bikes whizzing past the window where

I stood —

elbow deep in suds.

 

One morning —

hurrying, 

my son waiting anxiously

to get to the train

station —

The son who that summer

Grew past me — 

his eyes

seeming — suddenly — distant caverns.

I looked out.

 

They were gone!

Those apricots

I had meant to pick,

to eat, to dry

to bottle into golden jam

thick with winter comfort.

 

I gasped at

air hung heavy

with fermentation.

Eternity

Seeming

Suddenly 

So terminal

Copyright Elise Ellsworth 2019