With surprise I recognize
that summer squash is in the bag
that hits the table with distinctive sound
no more describable than the subtle taste
of this elegant vegetable lightly cooked,
lightly spiced. Clear yellow radiance of
abundance on my silver fork outshines
the hot nasturtium colors shimmering
with butterflies in the garden.
Attasquash, crookneck, Cucurbito pepo--
such dismissive and ridiculous names
for so delicate a vegetable
ephemeral in its young perfection.
Are we so beguiled by sweet young things
that we laud the strawberry and peach,
all but ignoring unassertive squash?
Ask the old and overlooked among us.