A Jar of Summer

A Jar of Summer Snow lies thick on the yard Outside my window. I lift the jar from the shelf And carry it to my breakfast table. Sunlight glows purple through the glass. I pry open the lid. And the winey aroma Fills my soul with summer. I see the grass by the fence. The air is heavy with The musky smell of wild grapes That hang in beckoning clusters From vines among the trees. I clamber over the fence, My hip complaining About that last leg over! I scramble among the grasses - Never mind the thorny creepers Clutching at my legs and clothes - And load my bag with purple jewels. The jam kettle waits, And I hurry home to fill The neighborhood with the Thick, sweet aroma of cooking grapes. This little jar of jam I open At my winter breakfast table Holds all the memories of summer. I close my eyes and let The tart-sweet taste Fill my all my senses with The sun and smells and tastes Of summer past and summers yet to come.