Pulling the long red radish bulbs
from the garden, I marvel
at their pinkness, rub off the dirt,
bite into the crisp white flesh.
There are few tastes that bite
just right this way—make the mouth
happy to be a mouth and it teaches me,
without trying, that sometimes
when we wait too long,
a thing turns bitter. But oh, get
the timing right, my god, it’s sweet.