Raisins

Raisins.  

Vile, dried, bitter fruit of the sun –

Grandma always said, they’re just grapes that got left outside too long.

Raisins in the sun: In my lunch box they go.

Please mom. Please don’t make me eat these.

I want those fresh grapes on the vine

That you grow in your garden.  

Seasons pass – As I grow older I realize

Grapes have a late harvest.

Why do I keep waiting –

For the fruit that never comes,

When I can just enjoy the present moment

With my raisins, in the summer sun?