Squash Season


Women, I think,
have a special relationship
with squash.

I love squash,
they say.
All varieties.

The acorn, the pumpkin, the spaghetti.
Perhaps butternut
the most.

They wait to see how you’ll
run your hands over a squash.
The curves, the knotty bits, the flecks of dirt.

Just as they study
their own bodies
In the mirror.

Stripped bare,
Stand and stare
Run hands over every curve, mole, and hair.

How can you ever know
if a squash was a good one
before it is dissected & consumed?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: