I never trusted those giant strawberries.
They seemed so exemplary of genetic engineering—
As though Jersey cows, and an ear of corn
Larger than your little finger are not.
Anyway, something that big can’t be natural
Is the natural way to look at it,
Which is how I did,
Until the granddaughters and I
Sat with a basket full on the back steps
Of the house in Greensboro,
Eating our fill of berries larger than their fists,
Laughing and reaching for another,
Ruining our dinner all those years ago.
I eat them still, enjoying every bite,
Remembering that moment, smiling,
Reaching for another.