Early Harvest

The sun edges past clouds
gleaming like a silver dollar
and we dip our paddles
the lake reflecting
darkness of oncoming rain.

There looses a kingfisher's
mad taunt from pinetops
circling the lake.

Water pearls in our wake
the wind gusts and
our canoe darts sleek as an otter
to a rock-littered inlet
where we beach.

As we thrust sharp sticks
the dark soil yields garlic
blossoming the air
with its heavy headiness.

Strawberries hide
their insufficiency under weeds.
We carefully pick what's there
for late afternoon jam.

Gulls scream overhead
and whitecaps scatter on
the lake. The clean feather-edge
of swallows slice the turgid air.