This brown paper bag of peaches

We bought from a little boy

At the bend of the long road

That held a sign painted “PEACHES”

From its sweet smell to fuzzy touch,

Fresh from the orchard

Filled with happiness and joy

Comes the familiar dust of summer

As we eat the peaches

We watch the sun come down

The sky turning red and pink

As the juice trickles into my throat

I wish for every single day to be just like this.