I have my favorites in the garden, but even the ones I do not favor at the table, I do appreciate. Okra is one of those. I am not southern, and have yet to develop a taste for it.
But as I tour the garden, I find so many things to appreciate, including okra. This morning these words found their way to a page.
The Story of Life in Okrathey stand tall in rows
plumb and evenly spaced
like pine planted decades ago
on a scale of their own
they've grown tall and erect
masai warriors standing sentinel
one faded blossom still remains
some tiny pods
that never will mature
their many hands of green
are tinted light and deeply dark,
some still and brown on slender falling branches
i dislike the taste of okra
slimy and southern as it is
but i listen carefully to it's telling of life's story.
A further endearing piece of information just came to me...it is sibling to cotton, cocoa, and hibiscus.
No comments:
Post a Comment