finally a june
that has seen
no gloom

verdant
wet hot
already yielding
the perfect red tomato

as i pluck seeded fruit
from the vine
yellow blossoms conspire
still wearing curlers
sipping tea
looking over the rims of their glasses
breathing sighs which imply
you’re old enough to know better

reminding me
in motherly fashion

this is the sort of summer
that gets you pregnant