the sweetest fruit

you rap your knuckles
against the green striped
melon in the grocery store.
it sounds good, ripe
and red, hard skinned
and shiny,
sweet with black
slippery seeds.
the first melon of summer.
you split it open
with the big knife
from the kitchen drawer,
then bite into it
with messy lips
and teeth, the juices
run down your chin.
it's almost perfect,
this fruit, though not as good,
to this day,
as the ones you stole
from the long rows
and vines at St. Elizabeth's
farm, so long ago.