The tasters

Walking in the lots that edged the creek, My father pulled from a sweet-flag root the inner blade of one of the reeds that grew pointed and tall where we walked ``Eat it, taste it,'' as he crunched his own And we gingerly nibbled and chewed its strangeness A memory came of another walk in a garden after a shower where someone I loved gave me parsley to nibble wet with drops of rain I chewed on its greenness and tasted there the flavor of the ground it grew in Pungent, tangy fragrant with earth smells I had tasted and savored something more than gardens and swamps and people walking where parsley and sweet flag grew

You've read  of  free articles. Subscribe to continue.
QR Code to The tasters
Read this article in
QR Code to Subscription page
Start your subscription today