I view my cellar shelves
I’ve sealed so much sunshine
My rows of cans and crystal jars;
So much of summer’s glowing hours,
Its vagrant breeze,
Its cooling showers!
And, now, as colorful as flowers,
My jellies bloom upon my shelves;
Preserves and pickles, beets, themselves
As natural and bright and red
As that warm summer day
Their blood upon my kitchen table.
I note each carefully-lettered label;
And through the gold or ruby depths of jars,
I see within my harvesting
The promise of another spring!
THE FARMER’S WIFE