Post Summer Harvest

fruits of crimson and leaves of green,

autumn warmth, sugar and plump

meet with buddha cheeks of harvest

round date earrings, tender and light

nectarine blush with pomegranate lipstick,

pick them like coquette pears, folds of a dress

elle se maquille dans le jardin

mother's garden, her dwelling-place,

somewhere in downtown, 
"Do you know the way to San Jose..."


in the Japanese neighborhood, in the backyard, 


sunlit smells of French monasteries and rivers

inside and outside, 
not so far away, 


tells the secret of the stomach


tells the secret of your heart 


bags full of grace, fruits of labor

touch you like my mother's smile in the cool shade.


By Mai Brehaut
~9/01