Peaches

With a ladder strung for me to climb,

the long branch quivering,

I rise toward them:

bright pink cheeks,

the globes that fill my eager palms

with their round wholeness,

palpable, improbably complete in morning

blaze of easy sun.

Their fragrance calms me.

Near them, all the world seems young,

so lovely,

light skin fuzzy on my tongue.