Contentment

I am holding contentment in my hand.

Contentment is my peach.

Four peaches on a blue rimmed plate.

Did I pluck the peach from the blue rimmed plate?

Did I pluck the peach from the Cezanne painting?

I touch the soft velvety skin of my peach.

My Persian fruit is sun warmed from orange to yellow.

I open the peach with a serrated knife.

I smell the sweet scented delicate aroma.

My fingers are wet and sticky from the juicy droplets.

I taste the luscious succulent  pulp.

One slice for you; one slice for me

Until I reach the rough textured almond tasting stone.

I held contentment in my hand.

Ethyl Haber

September 2021