SPRING HARVEST OF SNOW PEAS

They’re taller than me.
I taste and eat as I pick along,
choose the flat big ones and baby ones,
and leave the bulging pods for shelling or seed.
The purple and lavender blossoms
and the blue blossoms wave above me
and touch my neck.
I stand on the ledge of the box, reach for more,
and remember my mother and father growing snow peas every season.
When she could hardly see anymore, my mother showed me
by feel how to plant 3 seeds per mound.
Every day, enough for dinner, and for leaving at neighbors’ doors.
The birds surround me and eat and sing. I am unequivocally happy

-Maxine Hong Kingston

Plate from Berkeley Poetry Walk

More details can be found here Click for the item in The ultimate street signs site