These Peaches

These immature peaches
are like poetry pieces
that are underworked,
and not yet ripe.

Their size is small
but that’s not it
it is on the inside
that they lack substance
anticipated hues and textures.

Patience is key.
After all, the tree is still
relatively young . . . just another year
or two, and they’ll be so sweet savored by the tongue
nourishing the mind
replenishing the soul.

Oh but their smell
and the way they roll
around on the table
makes them poetry

or peaches
I haven’t decided which.