Snap and crunch a backyard carrot,
the luscious, brittle flavour of summer sun,
of thunderstorms that gush fresh Pacific water
30,000 feet down and split the sky wide open
with jagged daggers of electric flash.
Crush and grind the orange cellulose
between molars and tongue sweet carotene
as if licking a large lollipop at a country fair.
Swallow the knowledge that you planted,
tilled, and midwifed this crisp son of the soil.