Thinking in Terms of Flesh

In terms of flesh, the furrier the better,
from apricots to my sweet pup,
skin covered with hair
is softer, fluffier.  

Give me ham, salty Jambon,
I need my guilty pleasures,
let the monkey play begin.

Send in the clowns –
orange bug-eyed shellfish with
claws, the better to pinch and grab
me out of tedious ruminations.

This spring of rebirth
is taking me to too fresh of a place.

Just for a moment,
return me to the harvest table,  
home to sun-warmed grapes.

Opulence is alive
at this horn of plenty,
regret finds no hold
in a mouthful of ripe berries.