Strawberry Congregation

photo by Susa

Only twenty pesos a bag!
Recently cut!
Come and get them!
The driver hollers in Spanish
through the loudspeaker
on his truck parked at the corner.

Neighbors gather to buy.
My seven-year-old friend Alan
wearing flannel pajamas and fat slippers,
his pony-tailed uncle holding his hand,
smiles shyly before he looks down
at the twenty peso note in his fist.

Fat wet berries with fresh green hats
piled up and spilling over
from open wooden crates in the pickup bed
cheer all of us peering at them.
Or perhaps it’s our assembly,
the berries giving us good reason

to open our doors, to draw close.

            ©Susa Silvermarie 2024