Ode to Cantaloupe by Julie Rinard

My mother grew up in a farming household in the Midwest and her family grew much of the food they ate. She loved cantaloupe. But with four children and farmworkers staying with them every summer, there was never enough for her to eat to her heart’s content. So when she had kids, my mom was bound and determined that her offspring would never want for more. This poem is a nod to that feeling of abundance she instilled in us by promising we could always indulge in as much as our hearts desired of this luscious summertime fruit.

ODE TO CANTALOUPE (and the abundance my mother brought to me)

In the store We smell the fruit Thump the skin Select our loot

Ripe and juicy Sweet and dense Cut the fruit With great intent

We open it With a knife Down the middle And what a sight!

Oblong seeds Creamy white Spilling out Juicy delight

Offering abundance Baring its soul Shades of orange I want no more

Breakfast table Early morn With cantaloupe It’s rinds galore

Quarter melon Half melon Whole melon More?

Grapefruit spoons Jagged Tips Puncturing flesh Heaven to lips

Life’s complete My mom declares As juices trickle Down her chin